


Linger On

by ICanFlyHigher



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Friendship, Link is trying his best, M/M, Memories, Mute Link, Sign Language, Survivor Guilt, but mostly he's just confused
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-04-21 17:53:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14290188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ICanFlyHigher/pseuds/ICanFlyHigher
Summary: ‘Free the four Divine Beasts!’That was what the Princess left him with. Out of all the things to give to him in this new, rotting world, she chose a single, tiny sentence.or, Link goes to save the world and finds himself saving some old friends too.





	1. Chapter One

‘Free the four Divine Beasts!’ 

That was what the Princess left him with. Out of all the things to give to him in this new, rotting world, she chose a single, tiny sentence. Link seethed when Impa first told him. He’d traveled on foot for days, alone and confused in a hundred year old shirt, and after he made it passed the crowd that hounded him at Kakariko's front gate the simplicity of the Princess’ message felt like spit in the face. He calmed down soon enough; seeing the grief of time laid bare on Impa’s face was a sobering thing, and after that came the idea that maybe the Princess’ task was too much. With four directions, four races, four Beasts- it felt bottomless. 

Paya looked between her quick sketch of the Necluda region, the map of Hyrule on her lap, and the empty sea of black and blue on Link’s Sheikah slate. Link didn’t know when he would find another Sheikah tower once he hit the road, or if he’d even be able to access it, so he sat back and let her tell him where to place the glowing points on his incomplete map.

“If you head northwest, you’ll find Death Mountain and Goron City, but with so little money I don’t think you’ll be able to buy any fireproof armor.” she said. “Maybe an elixir, but I don’t think it would be wise to depend on that…oh dear…” Paya bit her lip as she traced the path from Kakariko with her finger. Link didn’t think she liked him very much. She’d been careful all day to keep as much distance between them as possible, and now she knelt as far from him as she could at her desk, not meeting his eyes. It stung a little, but Link couldn’t really blame her. If some stranger barged into his home after vanishing for a hundred years he’d be a put off too.

“To the south the terrain is easier, at least for a little while-”

 _‘What about there?’_ he signed. He pointed to the cluster of hills and mountains to the northeast. He noticed them back on the Plateau- a wall of black rain to the northeast, as if someone scooped up a handful of mud and smeared it across the skyline.

“That’s north Lanayru. The Zora’s Domain is over there- Vah Ruta will be too.” Paya told him.

 _La-nay-ru_ … Link rolled the word around in his head. There was a faint feeling of familiarity there. Lanayru. He’d go to Lanayru first. 

_‘Can you draw me up a map?’_

“Of course! Anything you need!” Paya blurted. She swallowed. “And, uh, I’ll go…set up your sleeping mat. I can only imagine how tired you must be.” 

Link glanced looked down at his feet. He wasn’t quite sure he was comfortable sleeping in Impa’s house, but Impa had insisted.

‘No friend of mine will sleep in an inn when there is a perfectly good bed upstairs!’ she told him. Link didn’t really think someone who couldn’t remember your name or recognize your face really counted as a friend, but it would be the first bed he’d slept in in a hundred years, and Goddesses, that sounded wonderful. He refused to sleep in the old man’s hut on the Plateau- sleeping in a dead man’s bed sounded like bad luck. Everything about the Great Plateau set him on edge: the rotting walls of the Temple of Time, the worn down metal creatures that surrounded it, the pervasive silence. While he didn’t know much about this world, he knew the sheer emptiness of the Plateau was unnatural, like a graveyard hidden by greenery. He was happy to leave it. 

He slept outside when he reached Dueling Peaks Stable. The handful of assorted rupees he found stashed in the Temple of Time wasn’t enough to buy him a bed or a meal, but the fire was warm enough and the company had been good. A nice man in an over-sized pack shared his rice balls with Link, and bought his warm doublet for 17 rupees. He laughed when Link told him he was the first flesh and blood man Link had spoken to in a hundred years. 

-

Link woke up just before the sun the next morning, still dazed by a confusing string of dreams filled with a hundred faces and echoing voices. He made his way downstairs as quietly as he could. The main foyer was dim, lit by the eerie orange glow of the shrine orb, but bright enough to light his path to the front door. Slipping out seemed rude, but after the gawking and fanfare he’d received when he first entered town, leaving silently felt like a much better option. Link didn’t like the stares the other Sheikah gave him. The feeling of others’ eyes on him made his stomach tighten.

“Leaving so soon?” Impa said softly from behind him. Damn. Link turned sheepishly to face her. 

_‘I thought you’d be asleep.’_ He signed. Impa looked up at him from her cushion. Her eyes weren’t angry, just tired. 

“Sheikah ears. They never sleep. They called us the shadow people for a reason, you know.” She said. “Walk with me, will you? The morning air helps these old bones.”

Impa waved him over. He took her hand and helped her up. For an old woman, her grip was strong and steady. It was easy to imagine her young and tall, her shoulders thin but muscular, her white hair cut close to her scalp.

_“Keeps it out of the way-” Impa tells him. He squints at her, standing beneath the blinding sun, drenched in sweat. The desert wind is fierce and hot as hell. “-the enemy can’t grab your hair if you don’t have any.”_

_The Gerudo woman next to her- Urbosa, maybe?- towers over them, and when she throws her head back and laughs, her red hair burns like flames. “You Sheikah are paranoid. A good warrior doesn’t let the enemy get that close.” Her voice is light though, and joking, and when Impa smiles the red paint across her face cracks._

“Are you still with me, Link?” Impa asked. Link blinked twice, shaking himself from his sudden haze. The sun was not hot and dry and dusty- it wasn’t even in the sky yet. The only light was the beginning sunrise and the sunset fireflies. Impa was still old and crooked, and the morning breeze was chilly through his fraying shirt. 

_‘I’m sorry,’_ He signed. _‘I just got…lost for a moment.’_ Impa hummed in reply. She leaned against the porch raining. They could see the Goddess statue for here, its reflection perfect in the still water surrounding it. Its features were simpler than the towering sculpture in the Temple of Time, but were carved with just as much care.

“I like to believe that, with time, your memories will resurface.” Impa said. “My hope is that those pictures I showed you will help, but in the end, all we can do is wait.” She looked at him, voice soft. 

“I know you can do this. You’re a warrior and a survivor- you always have been.” Impa turned to the door. “I have a gift for you. You don’t have to take it, but it would ease my old heart.” He nodded, and her smile felt empty. He sat at the stairs and watched her dip back inside. When she returned it was with a box, old but well cared for. She struggled to sit down beside him and rested the box in her lap. 

She placed her hands over his. Her fingers were long and bony; the brown skin drooped like melted wax. All traces of youth and fire in her face had disappeared- in the dawn she was nothing but an old, old woman.

“I’ve kept it all these years. You- the Champions- you each had one, and after everything happened, I took it and cleaned it up. I figured, once you came back, you could take some comfort in it. Not that it will mean anything to you now.” There was bitterness in Impa’s voice, but most of all a deep sorrow. 

The tunic she place in his hands was blue as the sky, and despite its age the embroidered designs were white and spotless. It was thick cotton, sturdy and breathable, and as he ran his hands over it there were pin pricks in his mind, fleeting sensations-

_Sand in his hair and sunburnt cheeks, the desert sun bright and- bellowing laughter, the smell of sulfur and bone crushing hugs- begrudging respect, well-meant banter- lake water up his nose-_

The feelings slipped away before he could truly grasp them, before he could hold them in his head and make sense of them. They leave him feeling hollow. Link turned to say thank you, but Impa had already left him alone with the fireflies. 

-

Breakfast was quiet and passed with little trouble. Paya already made tea by time Link came in. It was pale and pungent, smelling strongly of flowers. Link wrapped his hands around the warm mug, took a swig, and immediately regretted it- it was almost too bitter to choke down.

“It’s a Kakariko specialty- blue nightshade,” Paya told Link with a smile. He struggled to return it.

_‘It’s wonderful. Thank you.’_

They ate smoked stealthfin trout and last night’s brown rice in silence. Impa looked exhausted, and while Paya tried to fill the silence with small talk, in the end Link just excused himself to change.

His bed mat was still set up in the spare room. He fiddled with the cream edge of his shirt- he’d found it beside him when he first woke up in the Shrine, and the stitches holding the hems together had rotted away sometime in the past hundred years. When he pulled it off it practically disintegrated in his arms. There it went. The last thing tying him to the cold, unfeeling light of the Shrine of Resurrection. Nothing left but a pile of scraps. Link tossed it aside and sank down onto the mat. The Champion’s tunic felt impossibly heavy in his hands and a sudden knot of nausea weld up in his throat. _Fuck_.

Impa’s faith was unsettling. It seemed foolish for her to put so much trust in a stranger. Had his old self felt the same? Did all the looming expectations of him set this past-Link on edge, or did he feel confident in his skills? Did he handle all of… _this_ with grace?

“Master Link?” Paya poked her head inside the room and slapped her hand over her face. She forced the sliding door shut. 

“I am so- so, so sorry, I didn’t realize you were still undressed-” she stammered out. Link threw the tunic over his head and scrambled to open to door. 

_‘I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to take so long,’_ he signed. Paya looked like she might throw up. 

“I drew up the map of Lanayru you asked for, just in case you can’t find a Sheikah tower.” she squeaked, thrusting the roll of paper into his chest. “And- I, uh, wanted to give you something.” Paya practically threw the parcel at him, wrapped in thin paper. Inside was a set of clothes, folded with care, the red Sheikah emblem staring up at him. It was a brand new set of Sheikah armor, just like the kind he’d seen in Lasli’s store.

“I’m not sure it will fit, but I know you don’t have much, and I figured it could be helpful. At least, I hope it is- you don’t have to use it if you don’t want to! You can just leave it here.” She said, looking everywhere but his face. 

Link stared at her in confusion for a moment. It was an awfully kind gift for someone who seemed to want nothing to do with him.

 _‘Thank you.’_ It felt like the only thing he’d said today was thank you.

“I’m- you don’t- I guess I just wanted to say that I’m glad I finally got to meet you.” She said, then bolted downstairs as quickly as she came. 

No one came to see him off- not Impa, Paya, or any townsfolk. Link figured Impa asked them to stay way and give him some privacy, but it still left him feeling a little forgotten. He left up the northeast trail alone, towards a place he’d never heard of but still felt achingly familiar, keeping his eyes on the map. Frankly, the thought of getting there and saving the world with nothing but a stupid, glowing block of metal and his two feet seemed ridiculous. But he’d seen Lanayru’s rain from the Plateau, could already see the angry clouds from the rolling hills behind Kakariko, and it was the only action plan he’d got. 

-

Lanayru, Link decided, was hell. He stripped off his undershirt hours ago, but his tunic still clung to him with sweat, and he could taste the salt crystals on his lips. Wet heat stuck to him differently than dry heat did- the humidity crawled up into his lungs and sat like a weight on his head. That, and he’d been given the chance to meet a lovely new insect: the mosquito. The shallow, still, warm water of Lanayru’s wetlands seemed to be the perfect breeding ground for them, and though he’d only been walking for a few hours, his arms and neck were covered with angry, raised bites. Link eventually gave up on smacking them away and accepted his fate as a tiny, evil bug’s pin cushion. 

The biggest problem at this point was avoiding the lizalfos. He first heard their calls a good twenty minutes ago and they still hadn’t stopped. The lack of cover the flat wetlands offered was becoming increasingly stressful- between their ability to blend perfectly into the mud and their wicked speed in the water, the lizalfos had the clear advantage. Still, he could feel in his gut that he was going the right way. Each step sent a gentle ripple of nostalgia down his back: the way the sun turned the waters emerald green, the little toad spawn that darted around his feet, the soft, sweet smell of fleet lotus flowers.

A sudden series of clicks broke through the air’s heavy silence. Link dropped down into the mud. That was certainly not a lizalfo. He slowly turned over his left shoulder to see. The creature was easily as tall as a man and gleamed chrome despite the mud splattered all over its underside. It scuttled on six legs, like some sort of mechanical spider, and sent out more clicks as it rotated its head, exposing a pulsing blue eye.

The name came to him in an instant- _Guardian_ \- and the thought shot up his spine like lightning, white hot and paralyzing. He knew it, whatever it was, knew he had seen it before. 

There was a soft chirp by his head. Link turned as slowly as he could and- shit. 

The lizalfo lying on its stomach next to him cocked its head and let out another chirp. It smacked its jaw once, then leapt up and began yapping, diggings its claws into Link’s forearms to try and drag him up with it. Behind them, barely 50 yards away, the Guardian clicked. Link could hear it slowly moving towards them, following their noise. He dived at the lizalfo’s feet, knocking it back to the ground, and scrambled on top of it. It clawed at him, screeching, and Link struggled to hold it down while he groped for the knife tied onto his belt. The lizalfo bit down hard on his shoulder, but it was moving too erratically to get a good hold on him, leaving its neck exposed. Link shoved the knife up under its jaw. He tore his shoulder out of its mouth and forced its head down against the ground, pressing the two of them down into the mud. Black blood seeped out of its neck and into the shallow water. Slowly, it stopped thrashing. Link squeezed his eyes shut and tried to keep as still as possible. There was a click, then two, and then finally soft splashes as the Guardian wandered farther away. Link rolled off the dead lizalfo and spat mud and blood out of his mouth. 

He probed at his shoulder. Thankfully the lizalfo missed the subclavian artery, so instead of a spray of cherry red, the wound just oozed dark blood. It throbbed, but it wasn’t awful- the worst part was probably going to be cleaning all the mud out of it. Link leaned down over the lizalfo and pulled the knife out of its neck in one clean motion. He stood and re-shouldered his pack. The Guardian had scuttled somewhere else for now, but Link knew it would be back eventually. In the distance he could see the black rain, still falling.

He needed to get out of this damn marshland.


	2. Chapter Two

Link reached Boné Pond by midday and the road north of it by twilight. It rained softly, and as he watched the water drip down his hands, leaving streaks of clean skin behind, he was grateful for it. He tilted his head back and let it sprinkle onto his face, leaving cool kisses on his eyelids and cheeks. He was getting close.

By time the sun set, Inogo Bridge was the only thing he could see. The rain blotted out any stars, and the high cliffs that ran along Zora River cast deep shadows, but the luminous stones decorating Inogo Bridge made it glow like the moon. Link had two options now- move forward, following the road and the river, or scale the bridge and set up camp under its two covered spires. He itched to continue, maybe even reach the Zoras by daybreak, but then he could also fall, drown, and die, and then all of Hyrule would be damned, so he decided instead to climb up the bridge and hope his pack was dry enough to start a fire.

“Say!” Something called down, “Hey there!”

The creature that pounced down from the bridge, landing just feet before Link, was twice his size and covered in slick red scales. Link didn’t give it time to stand before his sword was drawn. It raised its giant hands, exposing a gentle face and wide, amber eyes.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you- I am Price Sidon, of the Zora.” He straightened up. “Pardon my asking, but are you a Hylian?”

Link nodded slowly. Sidon was tall, intimidatingly so, with broad fins and silver jewelry that sparkled under the luminous stones. He certainly looked the part of a prince, despite his heavily accented Hylian.

“That is fantastic! I was hoping you would have a moment to talk.” Sidon stared at him expectantly. Link stared back, making no move lower his sword. There was a pregnant pause.

“Oh, pardon me- what is your name?” Sidon asked. “I suppose I should have started with that.”

_ 'Link,’  _ He signed, hesitantly sheathing his sword.

“Link?” A strange look flashed across Sidon’s face, almost lost in the rain. “That’s strange. I feel like I’ve heard it before… Well, anyways, it is a wonderful name; strong and bold! It suits you. Now, Link, I can see that you are no ordinary man. You hold yourself with courage. Zora’s Domain and its surrounding territories are in great danger. The Divine Beast, Vah Ruta, has awakened and we cannot subdue her on our own. We are in desperate need of aid.”

Link nodded.  _ ‘That’s why I’m here. I can calm Vah Ruta.’ _

“Really? That is fantastic!” Sidon looked relived enough to cry. There was something familiar about the way he held himself- commanding yet approachable, kindness shinning from his eyes.

“Then you must come with me to Zora’s Domain. It’s not far from here, just less than two miles.” Sidon was already walking down the road. Link had to trot to keep up with his wide gait. “Unfortunately, you cannot swim up Zora River, but if you keep to the road you should be there in no time.”

_ 'What- now?’  _ Link signed.

“Of course! Time is of the essence.” Sidon said. “Though I should warn you- Vah Ruta’s emergence has stirred up some of the more dangerous creatures in the area. Most of them have avoided the path, but a pack of lizalfos have claimed a section of road near Oren Bridge. I have no doubt you’ll find your way around them.”

Link jerked to a stop.

_ 'Are you not coming with me?’ _

“Of course I am! Just not… on land.” Sidon said. At least he had the decency to look sheepish. “The lizalfos have gathered a nice supply of shock arrows- electricity and Zora don’t mix well. But I’ll be right there in the water the entire time, should you need any aid! Here-” He handed Link a fist sized bottle of sickly yellow electro elixir. “It’s made for Hylians, so it should be helpful.”

‘ _ Wait a minute! You can’t just-’ _

A mournful wailing cut through the night, the kind of sound that still hung heavy in your heart long after it stopped, and Sidon’s face darkened. “Vah Ruta. She’s calling out again. We need to hurry.”

Sidon turned and jumped backwards into the river, slicing through the water without even a ripple.

“Don’t worry! I’ll be right in front of you!” He called, before slipping under and out of sight.

Link bit back an unpleasant reply. Prince or not, Sidon had some nerve sending him off alone in the middle of the night into the waiting arms of a lizalfos pack. He asked for Link’s help- the least he could do was escort him.

Granted, Link told himself, he  _ did  _ offer. Sidon seemed genuine, and there was deep concern behind his words. Link didn’t doubt his dedication. Another wail echoed across the water. The night sky suddenly felt much darker than before.

Link dropped his pack and knelt down. The waxed leather kept most of the moisture out so far, but rain was slowly starting to seep in. Nothing would be much use- it was too wet to light a torch and even if he tried his tinderbox was soaked through. Finally he unhooked the Sheikah slate from his hip and lit up the screen. The blueish glow was faint and cold, but it was better than wandering around in the dark. Link glanced upwards at the sky, searching for any glimpse of the moon. It was as black as ever. Vah Ruta’s rain had swallowed everything up.

\---

Link was getting close to the Domain, or so Sidon told him. It was slow,  _ slow  _ going. The rain turned the road into a pitch mudslide, and with each step Link felt the mud swallow up his feet a little more. The cliff faces had become small waterfalls despite their gradual slopes, and the water had loosened the roots and soil holding rocks in place. Three times now Link needed to dive out of the way of tumbling boulders, and the last time he would have been squashed flat if not for Sidon’s warning from the water. It was becoming harder and harder to hear his voice over the wind- the further they got the louder it became, melting into the screams of Vah Ruta.

“The road moves inland from here for a while.” Sidon shouted. “Most likely, I will not be able to see you until Luto’s Crossing- possibly even till you reach the Domain.”

Link gave Sidon a thumbs up.

“Take care. Just stay close to the road. I have the upmost faith in you!” Sidon said before slipping down and vanishing beneath the water.

Link wiped his wet hair out of his face and kept moving. As the road diverged from the river the path grew rockier and the endless mud became streams of water rushing past his feet, sloshing up past his ankles. The trees- tall, arching pines and vibrant, fanlike plants- sagged under the weight of the rain, creaking and groaning with the wind. It almost buried the sounds around him: the squealing of boars, the chittering of keese—and the calls of lizalfos. Link could hear them, just around the bend of the road. He crept forward, sword drawn, and downed the electro elixir, just in case. He could smell shock arrows from here, reeking of sulfur and acid. Through the trees he saw six lizalfos hunched over a doe, its guts strewn across the mud, waterlogged and stinking. The deer was too small for all of them; a fight had broken out. The largest lizalfo, a hulking, slimy thing with needle-like teeth, snapped its bloody jaws at another lizalfo whose claws dripped with deer meat. The rest of the lizalfos yapped in excitement and circled tight around them. They were too busy watching the fight to notice Link until he lunged forward.

The pack gave a squeal, darting for their weapons, and the giant lizalfo shuddered before sliding dead off of Link’s sword. Its opponent leapt forward and landed on Link chest, knocking him off balance, its claws digging into his tunic. Link rolled out from under it and stabbed upwards into its exposed belly. It dropped into the mud and scuttled away. Two more came to its aid, hissing. Link leapt up in an instant and slid down comfortably in to a fighter’s stance, feet apart, sword centered. The first lizalfo leapt out of the way of his swing, but the second wasn’t so fast. Link’s blade caught it by its hunched shoulder, slamming it onto the ground. There was a moment of hesitation as the surrounding lizalfos took a step back. Link almost laughed at his luck; it took him a second too late to realize they weren’t retreating, but making room.

The first shock arrow came flying from behind and embedded itself in a tree, less than a foot away from him. Its arcing sparks lit the road a vicious yellow. Link stumbled back, searching for the archer, but the sudden brightness left everything a dotted black. The second one missed him by inches, but it was as good as a hit- the arrow head struck the pool of water Link was standing in. He didn’t register the pain at first, just a strong stinging sensation that moved up his body and the jolt of his muscles contracting as he dropped to the ground, his jaw clamping down on his tongue, his sword slipping from stone hard fingers.

The lizalfos wasted no time to pounce. He scrambled to stand but his thigh muscles just twitched. The lizalfos piled on top of him till all he could see were yellow teeth and tearing claws. Their slime mingled with the blood in his mouth and finally,  _ finally  _ his fingers decided to work again. He clawed at the ground around him, hand closing around the hilt of his sword, and brought it down hard on the skull of one of the lizalfos. The blow stunned it just enough for Link to wrench himself out of their holds. Unbalanced but furious, he turned on a lizalfos and swung. The blade stuttered for a moment against its scales then sliced through, nearly slicing it in half. The final two lizalfos circled him, snapping their jaws. They lunged from both sides and Link arced wide, striking one across the neck and the other below the groin. The first dropped dead, but the second slid down, wound gurgling, and writhed on the ground at Link’s feet. He brought his sword down through its skull. It twitched once then went still.

Link pulled out his sword with a wet, sticky, squelch. Bits of grey stuck to the dripping red- brain matter. Link let the sword fall and sank down to the ground. His feet pulsed in his boots, the friction of his socks against his feet making his skin scream. Slowly he began to unbuckle them and slide his feet out. Exposer to the night air just made them burn worse. Angry yellow-grey blisters covered the soles, radiating heat. Bad burns, but better than he would have expected. He looked at the smoldering black concave in the tree that had been struck by the shock arrow. Chunks of bark had been blown off by the impact. Without Sidon’s elixir that shock could have-  _ would have _ \- killed him. The thought set heavy in his throat like a stone. Link took a slow breath and tilted his head back. The trees towered around him. The rain rolled down his back and his seared feet, and chilled him to his bone marrow.

\---

When Link finally dragged himself through the gates of Zora’s Domain, leaving a trail of mud and bloody footprints, Sidon was waiting for him there. Link’s body ached despite the fairy tonic he’d taken and Sidon’s voice was a pleasant distraction.

“I waited for you at Luta’s Crossing, but you never passed by. I hoped that I missed you and that you had already went ahead to the Domain,” He said. “It appears I was wrong- I apologize.”

_ ‘Lizalfo problems.’  _ Link signed. _ ‘But I’m here now.’ _

“Are you alright? I can take you to our infirmary-”

_ ‘I’m fine.’ _ Link signed, face stony. He didn’t want to discuss his hike up the Domain any more than he needed to. The thought of the electrical burns on his feet made his stomach roll. Thankfully Sidon dropped it, though he did a terrible job of hiding his concern.  _ He’s too open for a prince _ , Link thought to himself. Being so obvious about his emotions was bound to hurt Sidon in the long run. Sidon put his hand on Link’s shoulder and began guiding him to the twin curved staircases on the far side of the square.

“Farther- the King- will want to see you as quickly as possible. I’m sure he’ll be overjoyed to meet you!”

A crowd had formed, dozens of Zora gathering around to gawk at their newfound hero. Link shrank under their gaze and pressed closer to Sidon’s side. Sidon squeezed his shoulder.

“They’re just glad all this mess will soon be over.” He said quietly, giving Link a soft smile. “There is no need to worry.”

Link could see their eyes though. He could see disgust mixed in the crowd. There were faces he could almost recognize, like bits of an old dream, and the loathing that shone from them was deeply unsettling.

The crowd shuffled to make room for them as they moved forwards, and as they split before Sidon, Link could see the statue behind them. It was a Zora woman, carved from luminous stone, glittering blue in the dark. Link felt his heart stop.

“That’s my sister,” Sidon said. “Lady Mipha.”

Link shuddered. He  _ knew  _ her. He knew the curve of her face, her soft voice.

“She was the Zora Champion,” Sidon said. “All those years ago. Father tells me she had the ability to heal that surpassed all medicine. ”

Mipha’s cold stone eyes shone down on Link like stars.

_ The sun here is pleasant and warm, nothing like the heavy, rich air of Faron. Mipha’s fingers are cool against his scalp as she threads them through his hair. Her hands are always cold- when they were children Mipha would marvel at Link’s warm, pink skin, so different from the cold, ridged scales of the Zora. _

_ It’s been far too long since he’s visited. The King has kept him busy, and after an exhausting trip to the Spring of Courage with Her Majesty, coming to see his childhood friend and dozing under her fingers feels a lot like coming home.   _

_ ‘Your hands are freezing.’ Link signs, fingers lazy and playful. Mipha pokes at his face. _

_ “You wound me, hero!” She says, head thrown back in melodramatic hurt, and pokes at his face again. _

_ He swats her hands away and sits ups, and Mipha’s crimson scales light up as she grins. He wobbles a bit on Vah Ruta’s ribbed trunk and when Mipha reaches out to steady him she can feel the bandage through his shirt. She sighs. _

_ “What have you done to yourself this time?” She’s already rolling up his shirt sleeve before he answers. It’s a well-worn routine between them, which is probably a bad thing, but her light hands are always comforting. _

_ ‘Lynel run in with the Princess. Ended well enough.’ He signs. He watches her carefully unwind the bandages. The lynel swiped him with its claws and left a trio of ugly gashes, but it honestly wasn’t  _ that _ bad, he thinks to himself. He’s had much worse. The lynel wounded his pride more than anything else. Still, Mipha clicks her tongue and lays her hand across it, closes her eyes, and conjures her magic. It stings horribly at first, like ice picks in the wound, but then melts into a soft, cool sensation, blue light swirling around his arm like sunlight on water. _

_ Mipha told him once, back when they were still children sneaking away from their fathers to gallivant around in Lanayru’s marshlands, that healing had to hurt to keep her humble. They hadn’t quite understood what that meant back then, but as Mipha grew and signs of the Calamity approached, the meaning became clearer. If you can heal without consequence, what would to stop you from holding back death itself? You must be willing to inflict pain if you want to give aid. _

_ “You really shouldn’t be so flippant about these things,” Mipha says softly. Guilt pricks a little at Link’s gut. Her face seems so sad lately. _

_ ‘You shouldn’t worry so much.’ He signs. It’s meant to be comforting, but the peaceful humor from before has passed. In its place a feeling of unease begins to settle in. _

_ “You know,” Mipha says suddenly. “This reminds me of the time we first met. You were such a reckless child, always getting yourself hurt at every turn.’ _

_ She looks up at him, golden eyes brimming with an emotion Link can’t place. _

_ “I was always willing to heal your wounds, even back then.” The blue light fades and Link pulls his arm back. The only thing left of the wound is the bloody bandage lying between them. _

_ “If these monster sightings and attacks really are omens- if this Calamity does in fact really return, what can we do?” _

_ ‘We have the Beasts,’ Link signs. ‘We’ll be able to hold our ground.’ _

_ “Will we? We just don’t seem to know much about what we are up against.” She murmurs. Mipha chews her lip and takes his hand in hers. _

_ “Just know this: no matter how difficult the battle may get, if anyone tries to harm you,” Her eyes suddenly grow harsh and her grip on his hand tightens. “I will heal you. No matter when, or how bad the wound, I hope you know that I will  _ always _ protect you.” _

_ Mipha pulls her hand back and looks out at the water, still as stone. The silence stretches for so long that Link thinks the moment has gone. He stands, careful to keep his balance on the curved stone, and extends his hand to her. _

_ “Maybe-” She says, slowly meeting his gaze. “Maybe once all of this is over, we can spend some more time together, you know?” _

_ She takes his hand and lets him help her up. Her hands feel like ice. _

“The soldiers she healed are old now,” Sidon said softly. “But they remember. They still love her dearly.” His voice shook Link out of his thoughts. He moved his gaze from the statue and nodded slowly. Sidon continued walking. It took Link a moment to remember to move him legs.

They climbed the stairs into the wide, open throne room. The Zora King was unmistakable; tall, broad, and regal in his throne, flanked by a shriveled old Zora who still managed to hold himself with pride and authority. Around them, the Zora elders stood in various states of distress. Their drooping heads all snapped to Link and Sidon as they entered. Link shot Sidon a worried look. Large groups of people were not his forte. Sidon gave him an encouraging smile. The room went silent.

“Link, this is His Majesty, King Dorephan the Third, and his advisor, Muzu.” Sidon said. The melancholy in his voice still lingered, but he gave his audience a wide, winning grin. “Father, Muzu, I am happy to introduce Link- the Hylian who has so graciously agreed to aid us!”

King Dorephan leaned forward, graceful despite his hulking frame.

“So this is the Hylian you have found for us.” He said. His voice was surprisingly delicate. “I am King Dorephan of the Zora. You did well to find your way here.” He paused for a moment. “That there, on your waist. Is that a Sheikah slate?”

Link nodded.

“Now that I look at you, it seems all too clear who you are, Hylian Champion. It has been a long time.” King Dorephan settled back into his thrown, smiling. Sidon’s royal composure faltered. 

“Hylian Champion- Father, you can’t mean  _ that _ Link?

“Indeed,” King Dorephan said. “All these memories- we all thought you had passed. I am glad to see you well, Link. I only wish Lady Mipha could be here to see your return.”

Link stared up at King Dorephan; the King’s wide eyes bored into him. 

“Are you alright, Champion? Your eyes are empty.” King Dorephan said. “Have you forgotten my face after all these years?”

_ ‘I’ve been …sleeping.’ _ Link signed, unsure of how to explain the situation.  _ ‘I lost my memory.’ _

“Surely not everything, though? Your home here? Lady Mipha?”

Link’s stomach turned. There were pathetically small pieces of her- cold hands, red scales, lake water- but mostly gaping emptiness. Another person to add to his list of things he’d forgotten. He glanced towards Sidon for support, but Sidon looked too wrapped up in his own head to notice.

‘ _ Not really. It’s all scattered. I’m… I’m sorry.’ _

King Dorephan’s face fell, and Link’s heart fell with it. “Forgive my composure- I cannot believe it. Everything, even her…”

Vah Ruta’s scream cut through the throne room, loud enough to shake the floor, followed by a blinding flash of lightning.  Even King Dorephan flinched.

“Let us move from these sad thoughts.” He said. “Link, as you have doubtlessly seen, my Domain is suffering. Vah Ruta has the unique ability to cause an endless supply of water. She has been shooting that water into the sky, and her rain fall is causing tremendous floods. While water and air may be one and the same to the Zora, it has caused severe damage to the Domain, sweeping away families, drawing out monsters. If Ruta continues, the Eastern Reservoir will fill to bursting. Everything down river- our territories, towns, Hylian settlements- everything will be destroyed. And without the reservoir to contain her rage, who knows what other havoc Ruta could reap. We need you to subdue her.”

The Zora next to him, Muzu, stiffened. His old, withered face twisted.

“Your Majesty, permission to speak freely?” He said. King Dorephan nodded.

“Do you really think it is wise to ask anything of the Hylain Champion, given his past actions?”

“ _ What _ , exactly, is that supposed to mean?” Sidon asked, voice tight.

“You know full well, my Lord. That boy led Lady Mipha to her grave.”

“ _ That boy  _ has fought his way here to help us out of this goodness of his heart!”

Muzu laughed, an ugly, ragged sound, like the hiss of water on hot coals. “Goodness? Those are the actions of a guilty man! He thinks he can waltz in here and receive forgiveness.”

“You have no right to speak of my guest like this. Link is a fine man-”

“He is a murderer,” Muzu said. He looked to the elders around him for support. They mumbled bitterly between themselves and Link’s hands began to shake. Muzu wasn’t really wrong- Link remembered little of his life before the Calamity, but he knew enough. He had led the Champions to their deaths, each one of them, and the Princess to her prison.

“There is no greater offense to her memory than to send him into that Beast. He’s claimed he would protect this Domain once before, and all he did was let that mechanical monster swallow Lady Mipha up.”

“You cannot pretend that tragedy was only his doing!”

“That is enough, both of you.” King Doerphan said. His voice was quiet but sharp. Link felt Muzu’s eyes linger on him, burning and vicious. Sidon clenched his jaw tight.

“Regardless of Link’s past actions, we have come to an impasse. We cannot allow Vah Ruta to continue. We need him.” King Dorephan said. We have managed to learn some things about our Divine Beast. We know that she requires electricity to work-”

“That’s why she’s been malfunctioning!” Sidon blurted. “A disruption of the electricity flow! If we just hit her with enough shock arrows we can get her working properly-”

“Sidon.” King Dorephan said. “Hold your tongue.” Sidon flushed.

“Of course. My apologies.”

King Dorephan cleared his throat. “As Zora, we cannot use the shock arrows needed to return Vah Ruta to our control. We need you for that.” He said. “Unfortunately, we do not have any shock arrows here for you at the Domain- they are too dangerous for us to own. We do know where you can find some, though.” He pointed with one massive hand out the large archways of the throne room, towards the dark, jagged mountain on the horizon. “Polymus Mountain. A lynel has emerged with the storm and claimed it as new territory. It is armed with shock arrows. Will you slay this lynel for us? I’m sure you will be able to gain enough arrows to take on Vah Ruta.”

_ ‘Of course,’ _ Link signed. ‘ _ Whatever you need of me.’ _

“Good. In that case, enough with all this business and worry- this whole ordeal is finally almost over! I say we celebrate. Link, you must come to dinner in the palace tonight!. Until then, feel free to roam. Perhaps some familiar sights will jog your memory.” King Dorephan said, but Link was already leaving. He needed to get out of there, away from the judgmental eyes and oppressive air of the court. Just as he passed the wide, open doorway of the throne room he found his exit blocked by a growing crowd of Zora standing at the stairs, gaping up at him. Link felt no doubt that they heard everything.

Link pushed through, head down, and tried to avoid touching them. They swarmed around him, yelling a hundred questions his way. A freezing hand wrapped around his wrist. It was an old, shriveled Zora, and while Link couldn’t hear exactly what heated words he spat at him, Link could guess they weren’t kind. Link jerked out of his grasp and stumbled backwards. Someone shouted his name from the top of the stairs- probably Sidon- and Link used the crowd’s momentary hesitation to make a break for one of the dark, open, _quiet_ streets, away from everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And actual plot starts! It took me forever to post this, school got surprisingly busy and I didn't have time to sit down at a computer. I've never written any kind of action scenes before so hopefully it didn't sound clunky. I was a little worried about how to make the in-game text sound natural, hopefully I succeeded lol
> 
> I've always had this headcanon that using mipha's grace hurts a lot, and just gets worse the larger the injury is. because if you can come back from the dead then there has to be some kind of consequence, ya'know? 
> 
> thank ya'll so much for the comments, they really motivate me! have a great day!


	3. Chapter 3

The innkeeper’s wife, a lovely Zora named Kodah, let Link stay the night for free. He didn’t know her face but she knew him- knew him well enough to have a nick name for him. _Linny_ was both adorable and deeply depressing, and when she showed him to his room and a covered terrace where he could cook out from the rain he couldn’t look her in the face.

That had been an hour ago. Now, in front of a mature fire, tunic laid out beside him to dry, boots kicked off into a corner, feet bandaged and shoulder tended to, the knot of guilt and unease that built up in his lungs was beginning to subside. The ebb and flow of emotions that followed him was becoming exhausting, but given his hundred year nap, he figured he was due some exhaustion.  

“I finally found you!” Sidon stooped under the terrace’s roof, rain dripping down his face. The excitement in his face slipped as he saw Link’s bare chest.

“You’re injured,” He said. “You should have told me.”

 _‘Nothing too terrible. I can patch myself up well enough._ ’ Link signed.

“Are you sure? I can escort you to one of our infirmaries-”

‘ _I’m fine.’_ Link’s hands were fast and sharper this time. Link gave Sidon a long, hard look, which Sidon returned. Link could tell he wanted to insist further, but instead Sidon sighed softly and moved closer to the fire.

“And I’m right to assume you will not be joining us for dinner?” Sidon asked, though it didn’t sound much like a question. Link nodded. There was no way he was going to spend any more time around Muzu and the King than absolutely necessary.

“I figured as much.” Sidon sighed. He knelt down beside Link onto the floor. “Well, in that case, may I stay and join you instead?” Link looked up at him. He wasn’t sure what was more surprising- the fact that a _prince_ had just asked to share a meal with him or that Sidon’s offer seemed genuine.

 _‘Won’t they be expecting you?’_ Link signed. Sidon waved his hand dismissively.

“One night without me won’t kill them. I am my own keeper.” He smiled. Link decided Sidon had a very nice smile.

Water started to bubble out over the half covered pot. Link grabbed a rag and lifted the lid, careful to turn it away from him. The steam quickly dissipated in the cold night air. He pulled out a good sized thin, jerky-like square and tossed it into the water.

 Sidon peered in at the brown lump. It moved sluggishly as Link stirred the water. 

‘ _That’s pocket soup. It’s like…really congealed beef bone marrow. You throw it in there and it dissolves, makes a nice broth. Add in some garlic, onion, swift carrot tops- quick and easy dinner.’_ Link grabbed his pack and began digging through for some plates. After a few moments he gave up trying to be careful and started pulling junk out and tossing it down- a collection of rags and bandages, his tinderbox, two knives, dozens of assorted bokoblin horns crammed into a greasy, damp bag --

“You are an absolute mess.” Sidon said. “How can you find a thing in there?”

 _‘I like to be prepared!’_ Link signed. He had a feeling that he used to be neater- still a hoarder, but one that could pass barracks exceptions. It seemed that talent melted away with his memory. He finally found the plates, hidden under Paya’s Sheikah armor.

‘ _I think I only have one spoon. I’m not used to company. Here, you have it.’_

“I’m surprised you don’t have a whole buffet hiding in there.” Sidon said. The spoon looked laughably small in his giant hand.

 _“_ You know, we Zora usually don’t eat food hot. Most of our cuisine is raw fish and greens. When I was younger, my favorite was always hearty salmon roe.”

Link scrunched up his nose. _‘That sounds absolutely disgusting.’_

“So does a block of cow gelatin, yet you’re eating that.”

Sidon continued to pick politely through his broth, while Link abandoned the bowl between his legs and settled against Sidon’s side. Sidon’s body was cold and slick, and the fire light cast flickering shapes on his scales. The scales were strange- thick, raised, and very different from Link’s own skin. It was probably horribly presumptuous to be so casual around a prince, but Sidon gave off a vibe that made it easy to relax.

“So what is it like, adventuring and all?” Sidon asked. Link paused- it wasn’t something he’d really thought about. “Come on now! Let me live vicariously through you for a while!”

 _‘It’s all a little… overwhelming?’_ Link glanced down at his hands, trying to find the right words. What should he say? I’ve only been awake for a few weeks after a century long coma and I’m still re-learning the roads? I don’t know where I’m going half the time, and the moon cycle confuses me?

 But despite that, there _is_ something hidden there in the back of his head- the smell of rain before a storm, dirt under his fingernails and grass stains on his knees. He can almost recall nights spent up in trees, the belt wrapped around his thigh tying him to the tree branch just in case he rolls off, watching through the leaves long after sundown to see the fireflies and falling stars. Almost memories of a beloved wild.

_‘I suppose I get to see something different than when other people look at it all? Because you can’t really see everything until you’re there, surrounding yourself with it.’_

He’s not sure where the words come from, but they flow effortlessly.

 _‘It can be miserable sometimes, but when you’re close enough, still enough, you get to see the flowers start arching towards the sun, and the little mud burrows that the hot-footed frogs crawl out of when it rains. You can almost feel how alive Hyrule is beneath your feet.’_ He glanced towards Sidon, suddenly self-conscious. _‘And, you know, punching monsters can be cool too.’_

“That sounds… wonderful.” Sidon breathed. “I don’t get to leave the Domain as much as I wish. I have my own duties, especially now. It seems with every passing day Vah Ruta’s grows more vicious. Father is stretched so thin- I’m happy to be of help.” The smile in Sidon’s voice wavered as he spoke.

‘ _You don’t seem happy_.’ Link's fingers moved hesitantly, unsure if he was crossing over a line.

Sidon placed his bowl down delicately before him and glanced up past the fire, towards the pale glow of his sister’s monument, barely visible through the streets and the rain.

  “May I speak freely with you?” He murmured. Link nodded.

 “Father is getting old. I should be doing more- these are my _people_ , and for weeks I have been asked to sit back and let Father and the Counsel fix things…” Sidon’s voice tightened. “He thinks I’m too childish to lead.  He hasn’t said so, but everyone knows he believes it. I tried to approach Vah Ruta myself with Seggin… It didn’t end well. Father was furious with me. That’s why I was so eager to bring a Hylian here. So I could have a chance to save the day, prove myself…”  

Link straightened up and turned to look Sidon full in the face. _‘Frankly, I don’t know shit about royalty-but I know a good person when I see one.’_ He smiled. _‘And I think a good person would probably make a much better king than some pompous hero.’_

Sidon’s eyes went wide and his face flushed.

 The fire crackled softly, and a sleepy, smoky quiet grew between them. Link began to scrub down the dishes and hummed a little as he did. The red of Sidon’s scales melted in with the flames in the corner of Link’s vision.

“May I ask you a question?” Sidon said suddenly.  “You don’t have to answer if you don’t feel comfortable.”

‘ _Sure- shoot’_. The wind shifted, blowing the rain into the terrace. The fire popped where the drops hit the wood.

“Do you really not remember my sister?”

Link put the plate down. The wind sent a chill down his bare back. Should he tell Sidon about the memory he’d felt? It seemed to be the only concrete thing he could conjure of Mipha, but it felt private- like her doubts and her promises belonged to her and her alone. They were not words meant to be shared with the world.

 _‘Maybe a little bit? Almost nothing though.’_ He signed finally.

“Me too.” Link glanced up at Sidon. He was struck by just how young his eyes looked.

“I can barely remember her at all. I was just a child when she died.” Sidon said. “I can only imagine how distressing all of this must be. Waking up alone in a new world with nothing.”

Sidon’s gaze suddenly felt uncomfortable. Link shrugged, feigning indifference. He didn’t like Sidon looking at him like that, eyes wide and sincere. He wanted Sidon to smile again and let him pretend, just for one night, that the world wasn’t ending and everyone he knew wasn’t dead.

A screech cut through the air, loud enough to hurt- Vah Ruta, calling out again.

Sidon let out a deep sigh through his teeth. Finally, the sound faded into the wind.

“Actually, I brought you something.” He said. “I figured, after all these years, it would be best for you to have it.”

It was an armored tunic, made of blue mail, lined with silver embellishments- and across the collar and sides, red and pink Zora scales, cold and slick to the touch. They seemed to jolt just for a moment when he ran his fingers over them- like something almost alive.

“It is a Zora tradition that a member of the royal family proposes with a gift made with their own scales. My… my sister made this, just before the Calamity awoke. It was intended for you.”

Link dug his fingers into the tunic. The unexplainable look he remembered in Mipha’s eyes suddenly made sense. Of course she would have made him armor. He was a warrior- it was a gift meant to be worn in battle. Her love quite literally protecting him. But there was no love here, in the now, and the nothing he felt left a twist of guilt in his gut. Had she already started working on it during their moment on Vah Ruta? Had she finished it by then?

He felt Sidon stand next to him, but Link kept his eyes locked on the armor in his hands.

“Link- regardless of what my Father and the Counsel say, good and bad, I think you are much more than the Champion they are asking you to be. I’ve seen your compassion, and that is far more important than any title.”

 “I should go.” He said. “They’ll wonder where I’ve been.” Sidon placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I believe in you, Link. Now get some sleep. You deserve it.”

By the time Link finally moved back inside the inn and collapsed, exhausted, into his water bed he still held the tunic in his hands. He sank back against the mattress, held the armor against his chest, squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to conjure some kind of love for Mipha.

When he woke up the next morning the sky was still black with rain and the armor had fallen from his arms onto the ground. He hadn’t dreamed of Mipha. He hadn’t dreamed at all.

 

\---

 

The trek up Polymus Mountain had been surprisingly pleasant.  The rain began to thin as he moved up the mountain- perhaps the height kept it out of Vah Ruta’s reach? Regardless, the coral-like plants that grew along the rocks sparkled pink and green in the drizzle. Link waded through one of the many ponds that pooled up under Polymus Mountain’s waterfalls. The roar of the water canceled out all other noise and formed strong, ripping currents, but the white foam the falls spat out was beautiful. Sidon told Link the Zora armor would allow him to swim up waterfalls, and he was dying to try for himself. Putting on the armor this morning had been uncomfortable, but here, with the water surging around him, the thought of Mipha’s proposal was far in the back of Link’s mind.

He reached out into the waterfall. It was large, so large that when he put his arm in up to his shoulder he still couldn’t reach the stone beneath- and how exactly was he supposed to do this? He jumped into the spray of the waterfall. Nothing. He probably should have asked Sidon more about the details of swimming upstream.

He moved back into the shallows. The falls met the pound underwater- maybe he needed to as well. He took a deep breath and dove back in with the current, letting it drag him down to the bottom. Goddesses help him if this didn’t work- he wasn’t sure he could break free of the current this far down. His feet hit the ground and he pushed up against it as hard as he could, up into the base of the falls where the two waters met. He surged upwards against the current, kicking hard, before he felt his legs break through the water, past the pond, into the falls, and instead of the shear mass of water throwing him down, it shot him up.

He opened his eyes and all he could see was the white, churning water. The roaring water pushed and pulled at his body, and there was a strange, fluttering feeling in his gut as he moved up against gravity. His lungs burned but he kept moving, kept kicking, until the waterfall spat him out and sent him sprawling in the grass above. Link gasped and gagged on new air. As he stopped choking he found himself laughing. It was ugly laughter, the kind that made his stomach clench, but he couldn’t stop.

 _That_ \- that was _amazing._

He glanced down at the rushing stream of water and felt the urge to dive back down and give it another go. The feeling of pushing up against pounds and pounds of water, of soaring up so high so fast- his heart was still pounding. He could do that for the rest of his life.

Of course that wasn’t an option. Link wiped the wet hair from his eyes and re-secured the sword on his back. There was still a lynel to kill and some shock arrows to steal. The faster this was done, the faster he could get inside Vah Ruta, and the closer he could come to aiding the Princess. To finding some way to destroy the foul pig-demon-thing circling the castle. To saving the world- giving people like Sidon the chance to live a normal life.

Link jogged up past the final curves of cliff side onto the flat expanse that made up the peak of the mountain- Shatterback Point. A few trees peppered the plane, their trunks embedded with shock arrows, and the rain did little to hide the smell of gore and sweat. Link crept behind a boulder just as the lynel moved into view. It towered, red and mighty, a bow slung across its massive shoulder. Link didn’t doubt its aim- he’d have to stay close and out of range.

Maybe it was the adrenaline left from the waterfall, or maybe it was that his last fight ended with bandages and bruised pride- whatever the reason, the lynel in from of him, beastly as it was, didn’t seem so much frightening as it did _fun_.

The lynel turned, and it was just the start Link needed. He swung himself over the boulder, and for a moment, when the lynel met his eyes he saw a glimmer of intelligence.

It roared. Link charged.

The first swing was easy to dodge. The lynel swung down on the diagonal and Link weaved to the right, slicing the lynel across its front knees as he did. The wound was practically a cat scratch against the lynel’s thick skin. It lunged, and the sword passed so close to Link’s face that he felt the blade ghost against his hair. He backed away, keeping a healthy distance between him and the hooves. He didn’t doubt that one kick would shatter bone.

There was a pause for breath as they circled each other. The lynel snarled and Link raised his sword, ready for the next blow, but instead the lynel dropped down and charged. Link blundered out of the way of its claws and slipped down on a wet patch of grass. The lynel took no time to turn around towards him. It opened its jaws and let out a rolling tongue of fire and a cloud of hissing steam. Link dove out of the way, rolled back onto his feet, and centered himself.

It breathed fire? _Wonderful._

The lynel shifted and dropped, ready to ram him again, but this time Link was prepared. When its body flew past Link spun out of reach and sunk his sword into the moving flesh, letting the lynel’s speed rip his blade further into the muscle. The lynel howled. Blood dripped down its left leg where the sword struck. It sliced through the joint connecting the leg and the stomach, like a butcher’s cleaver through bone.

The creature lunged forwards, furious, and Link parried, only to misjudge his timing. He stumbled back to avoid the lynel’s swing. The mistake seemed to goad the lynel on, and it raised its head to let loose another mouthful of fire. Link prepared to sprint out of range when an idea came to him. The lynel’s body sunk down on its left side, and its injured leg bowed outwards, low enough to scale. It was a stupid idea, a ridiculous idea- Link bolted forwards anyways.

It took just one kick off the lynel’s leg to propel Link onto its back. Link squeezed tight with his knees, lifted his sword, and plunged it down, right between the lynel’s shoulder blades.

Somehow, the lynel didn’t drop dead right there. It squealed, a surprisingly high pitched sound for such a massive creature, and flailed wildly. Link clutched its mane with his free hand and dug his knees harder into its side, but he could feel himself slipping. The lynel bucked its body, snapping its head back, and Link lurched forwards. His sword sliced through the lynel’s neck with surprising ease.

The beast shuddered as its head dropped off its shoulders, and then collapsed onto the grass. Link hauled himself out from under it. Lynel blood dripped off one of his boots, red and sluggish; he must have stuck his foot into its leg wound on accident. The lynel head stared up at him and Link kicked it, watching it happily bounce away into a nearby puddle. He sheathed his sword, breathing heavily but evenly. Once the lynel’s body stopped twitching he moved closer.

The lynel’s quiver held a hefty amount of shock arrows, more than enough to take down Ruta, and they sent an unpleasantly familiar jolt up Link’s arm when he touched them. Link decided that once this whole ordeal was over, he would never so much as look at a shock arrow ever again. At the edge of the lynel’s hunting ground was a sloping path, and at the edge Link found a clear drop into the Reservoir. Convenient.

He unhooked his glider. Sidon said to meet him at the pier- he could almost see his red form, teeny tiny this high up, through the howling darkness that swallowed up the Reservoir. He should probably hike down the mountain and detour back to the Reservoir’s ground entrance- if he flew down it would be difficult to see where he was going in the thick thick rain, and if he slipped on the wet handles of his glider, those waves would easily swallow him up.

Link glanced over his shoulder at the lynel head. Flies were already beginning to probe their next meal. With a running jump he flung himself off Shatterback Point.

           

\----

 

            “Horrifying, isn’t she?” Sidon said, glaring up at Vah Ruta. “To think she actually protected this Domain- I find it impossible to believe.”

            Vah Ruta towered, easily 50 feet tall, glowing bright through the swirling storm clouds above her, her rain blocking out so much sunlight that it might as well be night. If she wasn’t the most terrifying thing Link had ever seen she would have been the most beautiful. The waves stirred up by Ruta’s thrashing spilled up over the edges of the Eastern Reservoir’s pier, sloshing all over Link’s boots. He debated taking them off- would it be better to leave his shoes here and avoid the chafing of wet socks on his burned feet? He would ask Sidon but, well, Sidon didn’t wear shoes. Or any clothing really.

            “Do you have all the shock arrows?” Sidon asked. Link gestured to the yellow fletching of the arrows in his quiver.

            “Wonderful! Let us approach- we can’t let Ruta to continue for any longer.”

            He explained the plan as Link climbed into the lake and onto Sidon’s back. The water rolled violently and Link hugged tight with his legs. If the waters were this choppy at the edge of the Reservoir what would they be like once they were in Ruta’s range?  Sidon took off, cutting through the water like it was nothing, swerving closer at breakneck speeds. He wasn’t bragging when he said he was unstoppable in the water- Link had never seen anyone swim like that. 

            “Keep close to me- I’ll take up as close as I can; use the waterfalls to deactivate the receptors up top. Ruta has some nasty defense mechanisms. You’ll need to keep those away, alright?” Link patted his shoulder- there wasn’t much he could do to communicate with Sidon while straddled on his back. Link drew his bow and knocked a shock arrow. The smell of static filled the air and Link felt Sidon stiffen beneath him. Link realized how close the arrow was to Sidon’s bare back and the water around him- Sidon was _frightened_ , Link realized, scared that Link might let the arrow head get to close and burn him to a crisp. The realization left a tight feeling in Link’s gut, but to his surprise it wasn’t fear or anxiety. It was a fiery determination. He would keep Sidon safe. He would keep them all safe: the Zora, their territories, the Hylians downstream. He could do this. He squeezed Sidon with his knees and hoped it was comforting. Sidon picked up pace again, and as he curved towards Ruta’s front leg her first defender came into view- a giant ice block, larger than Link’s head, the edges covered in jagged ice, sharp as broken glass. It shot straight for them and Link fired an arrow. The block crackled and exploded, showering them in ice shards.

            Sidon kept moving, keeping a straight path towards Ruta’s waterfalls while Link shattered block after block. They kept coming, their jerky irregular movements making it hard to aim. Link couldn’t risk missing, not when he could electrify all the water around them. Two swerved towards at once, one easily twice as big as the other blocks Link seen. He fired, but the shock arrow only broke off a chunk of ice, leaving the block still mostly intact and shooting right towards him.

            “Hold on!” Sidon shouted, and Link barely had a moment to breathe before Sidon dove down. Lake water flooded Link’s nose as the roar of the waves died down above him. The block flew over, barreling past where Link’s head had been just seconds before and smashed into another ice block, the two crumbling to pieces. Link spluttered as Sidon shot up out of the water.

             “Are you alright?”

            Link gave him an affirmative squeeze on the shoulder.  Sidon curved again, bringing Link right under one of Ruta’s waterfalls and shot him upwards. He breached the water and drew his bow _._

 _Breathe in, breathe out; let the fletching brush by_ \- for a moment everything around him seemed to slow to a stop as the arrow flew and pieced the receptor. It spluttered, hummed, and died, the waterfall slowing to a stop with it. Ruta groaned. Link dropped.

            He remembered to take out his paraglider in the last second. The momentum of his fall jerked hard at his arms as it caught the air, but it was better than being squashed from a 50 foot fall. Sidon held tight to him while he struggled to fold the wet fabric.

            “Just three more,” He said, helping Link climb back on top of him. “Just three more.”

            He and Sidon quickly developed a steady attack strategy as they circled Vah Ruta’s giant legs, and soon the four receptors blinked out. Vah Ruta shuttered and stopped. She gave one last mournful cry and dropped her trunk, the rain slowly coming to a stop. For the first time since he arrived in the Zora’s Domain, Link could see sunlight.

            “Link look- the water sprouting from Vah Ruta is slowing down!” Sidon said. His smile of relief was blinding. “Ruta is floating higher now. You wanted to venture in side, right? I’ll bring you closer.”

            “Looks like this is where the real work starts.” He said as he helped Link climb on to the Beast’s entrance platform. Link shook the water from his hair. His Zora armor was perfectly dry. “Show the enemy no fear. I’ll see you back at Zora’s Domain. Farewell.” Sidon swam back from the platform as it shuttered and rose.

“You can do this!” He shouted up at Link. “Stay strong!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact- pocket soup is, in fact, a thing that was really popular with travelers 17-1800s. its a portable piece of concentrated gelatin that works like soup bullion!
> 
> I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, and I'm not quite happy with it, but I figured i should stop stareing at it and just post it already.
> 
> classes are almost over for me, so hopefully I'll have more time to write and can get these out faster. have a great day!


	4. chapter four

The interior of the Divine Beast was black. The only light came from the entryway platform behind Link, the water reflecting shifting, golden patterns on to the stone. Link took a cautious step forwards into the darkess. Water covered the floor, coming up to his ankles. He would have given anything for a companion, a voice, just something to make the Beast seem less lonely. The air, tinged red and filled with strange soot, was heavy and greasy with the smell of decay. The smell made sense- Vah Ruta was a tomb after all, with Mipha’s body hidden somewhere inside. The thought of finding Mipha’s skeleton in some corner, the delicate fish bones broken and shattered by the Calamity stopped Link cold.

Even if he barely remembered her, she had been compassionate and loving- his _friend_. And the Ganon had stripped her down to nothing but bones. Her armor felt a hundred pounds heavier, ready to crush him. Nothing but bones.

‘ _I’ll kill it_ ,’ He promised the open, unfeeling air of Ruta. ‘ _Whatever hurt you, I’ll find it and I’ll kill it.’_ Nothing replied. The black and red particles in the air just floated lazily around his head. Link moved forwards further into the entryway corridor, but just a few paces down his path was blocked by pulsing red matter, clinging to the ground like sluggish stalagmites. Sprouted above all of it swayed an eye, blinking down at him

The Sheikah slate told him it was _malice,_ a manifestation of Ganon’s evil and hatred; a sign of his influence.

Link poked at it with his sword. There was a sharp hiss as the metal touched it- the malice had _burned_ the metal. Link shivered. He didn’t want to imagine what the malice would do to flesh. It took just one arrow to pop the eye, and with it went the malice, melting away into the particles in the air. _Great_ , Link thought to himself, _I’m inhaling sword melting, hatred sludge_.

He moved on down the hallway into a wide, open area filled with flowing water, winding stairways and, thankfully, open windows letting in sunlight. There were two doorways- one to the right covered by a gate, and one to the left that glowed a soft orange. Link moved left first. Rows of strange designs, buttons, and finger pads lined the dimly glowing structure on the back wall. It jolted when Link touched it- a control panel. It was supposed to be blue, Link recalled. It supposed to be blue, and the buttons should glow, their light following your hands like ripples in water as you ran them over the panel. This wasn’t right.

Malice bubbled around the panel, flowing up over its base and creeping between the buttons and Sheikah designs. Link jerked back as it crawled up over the control pads. Even just being this close to the malice stung, singeing off the hair on the back of his hands. Whatever the control panel hid, the malice didn’t want him to find it. Making a mental note to return, Link moved to the right most doorway. He couldn’t lift the rusted metal gate himself, but his cryonis rune could, though the false ice groaned a little under its weight. The Sheikah guidance stone that stood in the center of the room hummed as it transferred information to his Sheikah slate, one drop of highly concentrated data at a time. It gave him strange, transparent map unlike anything he’d ever seen, but Link felt glad to have to idea of where to go. There were small, blinking points on various areas of Vah Ruta, and saying as how he had no plan to speak of currently, Link decided seeking those points out would be the best course of action.

\---

It was going well, all things considered. Link found his way up to the platforms above the second floor, the area below mostly taken up by giant turning cogs. He had figured out how to change their speed and direction by manipulating Ruta’s water flow, a feat he was very proud of, and lit the caged terminal in the center of the largest cog. Just one more to go. Who knew- maybe after the whole Calamity thing was over he could make a living out of solving puzzles. Link smiled at that and sat, the cogs spinning slowly below him. It felt nice to sit down- his feet ached, and he likely popped a burn blister. He unbuckled his boots and pulled his socks off. Moving through Ruta’s winding rooms, Sheikah slate in hand, left him with a constantly growing feeling of familiarity. He could see almost all of the Beast from up here, save for the curved stone lines of Ruta’s trunk. He knew these places, knew these smooth stone walls-

_She hates me.’ Link signs, sprawled on the floor of the control room. ‘First bird brain, now the Princess-’ He flips over to watch Mipha run her fingers over a stubborn section of carvings on Ruta’s control panel. ‘That’s probably why the two of them get along so well- how much you want to bet everyone hates me?’_

_“No one hates you, dear.” Mipha says. She frowns and presses harder on the controls. “Revali maybe, but I have a feeling that he is a much kinder person than he lets on.” Link scoffs and stands to get a closer look at the piece she’s having a trouble with. Mipha has only just been anointed as a Champion, and while piloting Vah Ruta is coming to her much faster than her fellow Champions, her frustration on her plateauing improvement over the past few weeks is obvious._

_"Would you put your hand here?” she says, already grabbing his wrist. The control panel is strangely warm, and makes a bright, soft sound at his touch. Link assumes it is a happy sound until he sees Mipha’s face fall._

_"I think she’s supposed to move when I press it, but she just keeps making that_ sound _-”_

_'Mipha, it’s alright.’ Link signs. ‘It doesn’t have to be perfect, not yet.’_

_“I know,” Mipha sighs. She rubs her face and rests her arms on the panel. “It’s just, they’re all putting their faith in me by making me a Champion and I can’t just-” The room lurches and an ear blasting trumpet fills the air. Mipha’s head jerks down to the pane- her arms lit up a section of switches bright blue._

_“Did you see that!” she practically screams. “Link! Did you see that!” Her tail whips back and forth in excitement. “I did it!” She grabs hold of his arms, almost vibrating. Her laugh is infectious, and in the light her grin glows bright blue. “I did it!”_

Link didn’t realize how much Sidon’s smile looked like hers.

He was too lost in thought to notice the mechanical clicking behind him until the blue, humming blade was inches from his face. He yelped and rolled to the side to face the creature behind him. It was a Guardian Scout, not unlike the training Guardians Link had faced in Shrines, but if felt... different. It pulsed purple and red, gurgling sounds leaking out from between its joints.

It shot out a series of white hot pulses that ripped through Link’s shield in an instant. He lunged and brought down his broadsword on its head. The dome caved inwards and split to pieces, and when the Scout collapsed snakelike pieces of malice slithered out from its broken body and out of sight. It was an easy fight, but its message was clear- this was no place for breaks. Link slid his shoes back on and stood. Just one more terminal to go.

The map said it was on the tip of Vah Ruta’s trunk, and after a few attempts and some trial and error, Link figured out how to extend the trunk as far as possible and glide down to it. The terminal chirped as he ran the Sheikah slate across it, lighting up a faint, triumphant blue. His slate vibrated- a new glowing point appeared right where the control room would be. Link glanced down at the trunk’s curved stone beneath his feet. His memory with Mipha had been here- they had _been here_ , sharing doubts and promises. He swallowed those thoughts and jumped, sailing back to the open windows below.

Ruta became strangely silent as he approached the control room. The soft rumblings of cogs and moving platforms in each room hushed as the water around his feet became still. Link didn’t realize just how noisy the Beast was until everything came to a stop. Only the malice surrounding the control panel still bubbled, hissing when it dripped onto the wet stone.

Link leaned forward over the panel with his slate, careful to avoid the malice; the slate pinged. Link assumed the groaning and rumbling came from the panel, given its hundred year infection, until the malice surrounding it flew off, slithered behind him through the air and across the ground. It circled around itself, melting into one giant pile of greasy, pulsing evil. It writhed, bigger than anything Link had seen before, forming arms, a head- and a spear easily twice Link’s length. The Waterblight stared at Link from behind its great stone mask, its one eye rolling, and screamed.

The sound that came from its black, dripping mouth sent a shot of panic through Link’s body and into his bones. He took a steadying breath and drew his bow; that spear was too long for him to get close safely with a sword. The shock arrows crackled as he spat them out, one right after the other. The first struck the Waterblight in the shoulder, blowing off a chunk of malice while the second clinked harmlessly off its mask. The Blight hissed, and swung its spear. The blue blade hummed as it shot past. Link leapt back and drew his bow string again. The arrow hit home, striking the Blight in its eye. The arrow’s electric explosion cracked through the Blight’s horned mask, exposing the black bits of a face. Purple liquid oozed down.            

It could bleed. Link’s heart leapt at the good news- if it could bleed, it could die.

Waterblight shrieked and clawed at its face, trying to rip the arrow shaft from the cracks in the stone. Link took advantage of the distraction and ran forwards. He sliced deep through its torso until his blade skittered against the Blight’s chest piece. He pulled his sword back and rammed it into the Blight as hard as he could, shoving it back against the control panel. The mechanism shuttered and cracked underneath its weight. The Blight swatted him away with a giant hand. Link yelped. His skin smoked where Waterblight touched him, burn boils forming almost instantly. Shaking, he moved away and nocked another arrow. He was still aiming when the spear swung outwards again, catching him in the leg and sending him rolling back.

He knew that his leg was broken before he even looked down. Link could feel blood soaking into his pants, hot and thick. He forced himself to his feet, ignoring the sharp protest from his left leg. Purple blood pooled in the curves of Waterblight’s chest piece. Link pulled his bow string back again- it snapped. _Shit_

The Blight seemed to almost laugh at him, body movements jerky and mocking. Link steeled himself. He could work with this; as long as he avoided the spear, he should be able get close enough to stab it. A distressing setback, but he would be okay. He would be okay.

The floor underneath him started to shake. _Shit, shit-_

Water surged upwards, flooding the room in seconds, save for a few square pillars. Link hoisted himself on one as best that he could and bit down hard on his tongue as his leg dragged against the stone. Waterblight hovered above him, bobbing like a dead fish. It raised its spear and hurled it at Link. He only just dragged himself out of the way as it hit, scraping deep grooves into the stone. The Blight leaned down to grab it. _It doesn’t think I can hurt it down here_ , Link thought. He stood and as its head dipped over him drove his sword upwards into the cracks in the stone mask. _It’s wrong_.

 The Blight screeched and clawed at him, digging its malice ridden fingers into Link’s skin. Link smelt the metal and fabric of his armor warping under its touch. He kept his hands steady and twisted his sword in its face. The mask crumbled more, dust and Blight blood dripping down Link’s arms. Waterblight scrambled back, purple blood smeared across the mask. Furious, it swung its spear. Link had nowhere to go. It smacked him off the platform, knocking his sword out of his hands and somewhere into the waters below. He managed to drag himself back through the water and pull himself up. He started to stand but the damn leg kept him moving too slowly. The Blight swung out again and caught him across the stomach.

There was a moment of stillness before Link registered being hurled hard across the room into the control panel. His head slammed back against a row of buttons; Link felt a wet crunch, the noise vibrating in his ears. The world tilted as he slid off and dropped into the water. Everything melted together- which way did he fall from? He wasn’t sure, couldn’t tell with the violent rolling in his head. Link groped lazily outwards until he felt stone outcropping from the ground. He dug his fingers into the sides and slowly pulled himself up- if he was going to die, he wasn’t going to drown.

Finally Link’s fingers found air again and he dragged himself halfway up. Above him in the hazy air, Waterbight seemed to shimmer as it drew back its spear for a final blow. Link flinched and squeezed his eyes shut, ready to be skewered- but all he heard was the grating screech of metal on metal. He opened his eyes slowly. A pair of red, scaly legs stood before him, blood-soaked and toned, connected to a small, muscular body.

“You leave him _alone_.” Lady Mipha spat. She pointed her trident at the Blight. “You and I- this is our fight.”

Waterblight hissed, circling above the two of them, and Mipha dropped Link’s broadsword before him. “I believe you need this.”

Link shook off the pain in his head and pulled himself up. His vision weaved and spun as he stood but he kept his eyes ahead. Mipha stabbed upwards as the Blight lunged towards them, her movement fluid and swift as a viper’s. She struck its neck, the trident’s barbs hooking into the putrid flesh as it thrashed. Bracing the trident’s staff on her arm, she jerked it downwards, bringing the Blight with it. Waterblight smacked down into the water, its head still surfaced and in reach. Link wasted no time. He thrust his sword into the eye, using his dead weight to sink it deep into its flesh, and twisted.

Waterblight screamed, clawing at anything its fingers could reach. Mipha gritted her teeth, keeping it in place as it thrashed. Its black hand wrapped around Mipha’s leg and Link pulled his sword from its face with a wet, squelching sound and brought it down hard on the Blight’s arm. It took three swings to break through whatever served at the Blight’s bone before the arm gave way, its fingers slowly uncurling as the limb fell from the platform into the waters below. Link could _smell_ the burns its touch left on Mipha’s bare skin, nauseatingly sweet and meaty.

Mipha tore her trident from Waterblight’s neck, taking a hunk of flesh with it, and stabbed her trident between the growing cracks on Waterblight’s mask. She twisted her weapon in a hard, swift motion, the heavy metal breaking off chunks of stone. Mipha forced her weight down. With a groan the prongs of her trident burst through the other side of the Blight’s head, impaling it. It moaned, a painful, pitiful sound, as it slid backwards off her trident into the water below.

The water level began to drop, the platforms moving down with it. The Blight’s body hissed and writhed on the ground as the water drained, before dissolving into nothing, like salt in water.

“Good.” Mipha breathed. Her legs began to wobble and Link caught her as she collapsed. He should probably be surprised to see a dead woman in his arms, weapon gleaming like silver at her feet, but right now the ringing in his head was too distracting.

“You’re hurt.” Mipha said, noticing the unnatural bend it his leg. She reached out to him. With the Blight gone the energy seemed to leech from her. Her arms shuttered as she grabbed at him. “H-here let me-”

Link took hold of her wrists. Mipha’s face was a greying pink, and now he saw the source of the blood that continued to run down her legs- a hole in her side, edges ragged and raw, easily the size of his hand. The fact she managed to _stand,_ let kill Waterblight was unbelievable. She couldn’t afford to lose any more blood.

“Link-” He pushed her hands towards her side. Mipha looked at him long and hard. It was becoming more and more difficult to focus on her face. Link’s vision pulsed in time with his head. Her wound was warm, a disturbing difference from the freezing skin around it. “Okay.” She said finally. The word fell out of her mouth like a hundred pound weight. “Okay.” She swallowed hard and took his hand, placing her other on the wound, closed her eyes, and lit her hand blue.

Link knew it would hurt- he remembered that much from his hazy ideas of Mipha and her Grace- but he didn’t expect the guttural choking sound that came out of her mouth. She clamped her jaw shut. Blood began to drip down her gums as her sharp teeth sliced through her tongue and her grip on his hand was so tight he could almost feel the bones grind.  Her legs jerked and for a moment Link feared she was seizing. He pulled her against his chest and tried to hold her still. Was that helping, or was he just making things worse?

Finally _, finally_ , her hand fell from her side and she stopped shaking, save for the occasional jolt through her limbs. Her head lulled back against his shoulder, limp as a rag, but at least he could feel her breath on his neck. Blood still flowed from her side, but slightly slower now, leeching instead of gushing, and the edges of the wound looked smaller and cleaner. Link pulled Mipha up, his leg teetering beneath him.  He slowly moved towards Ruta’s main entrance, having to stop every few paces as the room rolled around him. He felt strangely numb, his thoughts sluggish, like his brain had been stirred with a spoon. As they passed outwards onto the Reservoir’s the air felt stale and wrong in his chest.

Surprisingly, the Zora Guard waited for them at the pier, colorful blobs that dipped and spun across Link’s vision.

“Oh thank goodness you’re alright!” someone- Sidon? - said. “We saw Vah Ruta begin moving and didn’t know what to… _holy Goddesses_ -”

Link passed Mipha off onto one of the Zora, stumbling under her weight. _‘Medic’_ he tried to sign, but his arms just felt so _heavy._ Someone reached out to him as he tripped over his dragging leg. Link wasn’t sure if they caught him before the pounding in his head overtook everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4 chapters in into this everybody lives au and FINALLY someones doing some living lol
> 
> this chapter is short but i figured running around vah ruta could get really boring really quickly so hopefully its all alright in the end?? 
> 
> also! i'm officially a high school graduate! which means ill have a lot more time to write, so longer chapters and faster updates. thank yall so much for your kind responses and kudos, they really mean so much to me. have a great day!


	5. Chapter Five

_When he wakes for the first time the world is black and blue and cold._

_He is only dimly aware of the liquid draining around him or the lights that hang above like electric stars. A Voice, soft and bittersweet, echoes around the room, and whatever, whoever she is stands out in his mind like an old dream. He cannot recall if it is a good dream or a bad one. The Voice dissolves into the air eventually, leaving him with the room’s grim, humming silence, and it’s only then that he stands. He falls as soon as his feet touch the ground. It takes two tries to drag himself up, digging his fingers in the groves of his containment bed._

_The Voice tells him his name is Link. Even through the artificial drowsiness that clogs his head, he finds it alarming that he must be told his own name. He whispers it, and while it sounds right hanging in the air, the weight of words on his tongue feels starkly wrong. Link decides that whoever he is, speaking is not his strong suit._

_He moves to the next room with his new Sheikah slate in hand, legs watery but growing stronger, and finds a handful of clothes folded with care. They don’t fit quite right and the leather boots are badly cracked, but it’s better than nothing. The boxes and barrels that line the room may have held something useful once, but now they are all but dust. Another disconcerting thought- how long must he have been asleep for so much wood to rot?_

_Link sits on the stairs, elbows on his knees, face in his hands, and tries to remember. He must be here for a reason- the device the Voice gave him almost pulses with familiarity, and he knows he must have seen these walls before. He closes his eyes, tries to fight against the wall of hazy nothing in his head, and doesn’t like what he finds-_

_Pain, not sharp and surprising, not anymore, just leeching, dripping, gurgling pain that fills his mouth with bloody foam. He’s frightened, so frightened, but he’s too wrapped up in trying to breathe to notice anymore. The liquid rising around him is blue and cold, and he’s not sure if he’s drowning or if this is the afterlife. He wants to call out, beg to the people leaning over head, talking of grief, death, and Calamity, to help him, but the water chokes him and it’s cold. It’s so damn cold; it swallows him up until his head turns to mush and he can’t think anymore-_

_The Voice calls out to him again and Link scrambles to his feet, searching for her in the darkness. He wipes away the tears in his eyes- if the Voice can see him he doesn’t want her to think of him as a coward. He glances back to the containment room behind him, its pulsing glow still visible. From here the containment bed is an open, waiting jaw._

\--

When Link woke, the light coming from the windows was red and bloody, dyeing the stone floors scarlet.

A blood moon- so round and full it looked like it might fall at any moment. Even still half asleep the sight of it sent a shiver straight through Link. He shifted and immediately regretted it as the aches in his body fought in each direction for his attention.

He lay swaddled in blankets, his leg propped up, in a water bed easily twice as large as it needed to be. A haze clung to his head even as Link blinked sleep away, his brain struggling to piece together the space around him- a small room with wide windows and silver privacy curtains separating empty beds and pools of water. An infirmary, most likely in Zora’s Domain. The side table to his left was filled with varying pain elixirs- probably the source of the fuzziness in his head.

Link peeled back the blankets and looked himself over. The healer must have had a hell of a time- malice burns, wrapped and sticky with salve, littered his body, and his skin was a canvas of black bruises. The healers put his leg in a kind of split he’d never seen before, a sophisticated contraption that would certainly make sure his leg healed straight but still did little for the pain. Link didn’t know how much painkillers they gave him, but if his leg hurt this bad now then he was deeply grateful that he’d been out when they set the bone.

His leg couldn’t hold a candle to his head, though- blunt, hot pain spider webbed through his skull into his teeth. Link raised a hand to the back of his head and bit back a moan as his fingers brushed over the base of his skull. It was bandaged, the gauze stiff with dried blood, and though Link couldn’t be sure, he worried it might still be bleeding.  He took a steadying breath, his heart beating in time with the throbbing in his head. The elixirs by his bedside tempted him, but Link didn’t want to fill his head with anymore artificial cotton balls just to ease the pain. 

Link reached at his hip for his Sheikah slate only to see it placed atop his clothes, folded carefully across the room. Mipha’s armor sat beside it, shining red in the light, the fabric in pieces and the metal warped; completely ruined. He could only image how upset Mipha might be to see all her hard work destroyed. Link bolted up. Mipha! He struggled to get out of bed, his leg jutting out awkwardly. The room was empty behind the privacy curtains, but he knew she had to be somewhere. Gritting his teeth, Link wobbled to the door and into the hallway. He found her only three doors down, thank the Goddess- anymore and Link worried his leg might fall out from under him.

She laid in a bed instead of a healing pool, probably to support her side, sitting up and staring out the window.  A large lump sprawled across her legs- Sidon, fast asleep and softly snoring. Mipha ran her fingers down his crest and twitched her head towards Link when she heard the door open.

“You’re up.” she whispered, careful not to wake Sidon as she turned to smile at him. She looked exhausted, but at least her color was better. Green bandages covered her chest and most of her arms, shiny with ointment. Her head drifted back to the large window, flooded with bloody light.

“To think the Calamity’s reach is so far it can even taint the moon.” she muttered. “Disgusting.”

Link hummed in reply. He met his first blood moon just days after leaving the Great Plateau. He settled down for the night in a recently liberated monster camp, and the Princess’ warning slithered into his dreams just moments before the moon reached its peak- a hair later and he would have found himself surrounded by vengeful bokoblins, dazed and unprepared. He could hear the strange, nauseating sound of spilled guts slipping back into skin and broken bones snapping back into place behind him as he bolted, and didn’t stop moving until he reached the relative safety of Proxim Bridge.

“How are you feeling?” Mipha asked.

' _Head hurts pretty bad.’_ Link signed.

“I can imagine. It was incredibly stupid of you to refuse help on Ruta.”

He shrugged. Mipha looked at him, quiet and desperate, and a deep discomfort began to grow in Link’s gut. He became acutely aware that this woman in front of him was a stranger. His fingers twitched, struggling to find the words to explain himself and his amnesia as his face grew shamefully hot.

' _Mipha…’_ he signed, hands doubtful and slow.

“I know.” she said. “Sidon told me that you lost your memory.”

_'I’m sorry.’_

“Don’t be, please. I’m just glad you’re safe.” She offered her hands and an invitation for healing. “May I?” Link nodded and eased himself down beside her bed. She laid her hands against the base of his head and even her gentle pressure was enough set off a fresh, fiery ache in his brain.

“It will hurt at first.” Mipha warned. Link almost laughed.

 _'I know.’_ She closed her eyes, and as her hands steadied with the flow of magic the smell of lake water and sunlight spiraled up. It was a grateful distraction as the throb in his skull grew into a stabbing, shattering pain. Link bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, blood filling his mouth, until the pain melted away. New soft and gentle waves willed away the fracture in his skull, knitting the bone back together and clotting the raw skin. Finally the chill disappeared and Mipha peeled back the bandage.

“Good as new.” Her fingers brushed his scalp as she ran a soft hand through his hair, and Link knew in an instant this had been common for them- Mipha’s gentle fingers in his hair as the last waves of magic left his system, his head in her lap, open and worriless. He went rigid under her touch, unsure if he should lean into it or pull away. How could she even be here? Her wounds from her first fight with Waterblight were far too severe to last a hundred years. She’d been in pieces when she saved him- if not for her own healing she would have bled out. Could he ask? Would she be insulted or hurt? In the end his curiosity won out.

“Waterblight beat me in the end.” Mipha answered him. “Its throw…its throw was too strong, and the malice just…” Her words faltered in confusion. “It just swallowed me up.” Link thought to Ruta’s control panel, seeped in the purple, poison tar. Had she been so close all that time?

 _‘And it just left you there?’_ Mipha swallowed.

“No. I could see what Ruta saw. Could see it all happen- the destruction of the Domain, the suffering of my people. And it was like I could _feel_ the Blight. I could feel its hatred, its rage, and its pleasure. It was so proud of itself, it- it just- it felt so _happy_.” The hand in his hair stilled. “It reveled in it all.”

Link heard her sniffle and it sent a knife into his stomach. He had done this, hadn’t he? He’d gone and fucking died and Mipha spent a hundred years suffering for it. Her armor was ruined, melted and ripped to pieces protecting someone who already failed her. His throat tightened. Mipha deserved better.

Link glanced up at her. Mipha’s eyes fixed on the window, her body deathly still. She needed better. He wanted her to smile, wanted to somehow wipe the ripples of pain from her face. He needed to- she deserved it, after all these years. He took her hand, leaned upwards, and kissed her.

Her lips felt soft and cold, just like the rest of her. She tasted of tears and medicine.

“Oh, Link,” she murmured as she pulled away from him, eyes sad. “You really don’t remember me, do you.” It was not a question or an accusation, just a simple, definitive statement, but it still hurt. She cupped his face in her hands and Link pulled away from her, struggling to his feet.

 _‘Let me do this.’_ he signed. _‘Can’t I just do this for you? After everything-’_

“You don’t owe me anything.” She promised him. “I could never ask that of you. It is unfair at best and manipulative and- and cruel at worst. _Link_. You’re my best friend. All I could ever ask is for you to be safe.” She reached out again. This time Link hesitantly took her invitation, sinking into a hug.

At first the hold was uncomfortable. The chill of Mipha’s skin leached into his bare skin and her sharp nails dug slightly into his back, but slowly, as her cold willed away some of the tightness in his muscles and her heart began to beat in time with his, Link realized that even without the memories of her, there could be nowhere in Hyrule that could be as safe and warm. He let go of the tension in his arms and leaned into the touch, resting his head on her shoulder. Mipha sighed softly, her breath tickling his ear. Beside them, Sidon stirred with a groan. He looked at them through bleary eyes.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Mipha said despite the obvious lack of sunshine, smiling with Link still settled against her. “Sleep well?”

\---

This time King Dorephan _insists_ that Link join him for a royal dinner, which, Sidon told him, meant there was no way Link could wiggle out of another audience with the King.

“Insists is the polite way of saying demands. No fireside chats tonight.” He said as he fiddled with Link’s hair. Sidon rarely saw Hylian hair, let alone touched it, and seemed to share his sister’s fascination with Link’s head. Over the past week Sidon took it upon himself to see that Link felt at home in the Domain while Link waited for the healer’s permission to remove his split and leave. The two of them wheeled around downtown, Sidon torn between helping Link meet some of his old friends and helping him avoid them. Link didn’t complain when the Zora healer stuck him in a wheelchair- the sheer pain that followed his couple yard walk between his room and Mipha’s was enough proof for him that he needed one. The Zora’s talent for healing surprised him; he expected his leg to keep him in bed for a good month, but under their careful fingers they promised him that in a week he’d be up and out of his wheelchair, and in two could run a marathon if he so desired.

Mipha’s recovery moved slower. Cleaning out a hundred years’ worth of infection meant frequent checkups, changing bandages, packing wounds, and staunching re-opening cuts, and while Mipha insisted she could move the process along much fast if they would just let her heal herself, the healers set a strict rule- no self-healing, under any circumstances. Mipha claimed she wasn’t bitter about it, but her mutterings as she wheeled herself to and from the infirmary suggested otherwise.

Sidon tied off his attempt at a braid with pride, tilting the mirror so Link could see his handy work. It hung lopsided and most strands stuck out awkwardly instead of plaiting together.

 _‘It’s lovely for a first try.’_ Link signed, debating if it would be rude to redo it before dinner. Link knew it was silly to worry so much about a dinner party, but the thought of sitting alongside so many highbred Zora left butterflies in his stomach. The light blue and white of his Champions tunic stood out against the purple bruises visible from the low collar. Battle scars, Sidon assured him. Nothing to be self-conscious of.  Still, he fiddled with the collar the whole way to King Dorephan’s dining hall.

The dining hall followed the same glittering architecture of the Domain: soaring ceilings, softly curved metal, and the glow of luminous stones reflected on every surface. The sheer number of Zora packed into the room surprised Link. He hadn’t realized how lacks the social structures between the Zora were; members of the Counsel mingled with common Zora, and the King leaned down in his enormous seat to speak openly with his subjects. King Dorephan’s wrinkles deepened as he laughed at the antics of a little girl hoisted on her mother’s hip, and to his right, shining under all of her jewelry, sat Mipha. Her brow was furrowed, and she chewed delicately at her lip as she listened to the old Zora beside her- Muzu, who seemed to be caught between a deep joy and lingering sorrow as he spoke with her, holding tight to her hands.

Link tried to mimic Sidon’s confident, unwavering posture as he wheeled himself into the room, said Prince trailing just a foot behind. The crowd of Zora split easily before them, a few calling out greetings to Sidon, whose diplomatic smile was almost blinding. He waved and shook hands, obviously in his element, and took care to redirect any overwhelming attention away from Link. Link couldn’t be more grateful.

  Mipha perked up when she saw them and turned from Muzu to tug at her father’s arm. King Dorephan straightened and called for silence as the two of them took their seats to the King’s left.

“The rest of our honored guests finally arrive. Better late than never, yes Sidon?” King Dorephan said. His tone was joking, but Sidon still flushed green.

“The violent downpour has disappeared, as has the threat to Zora’s Domain! It is all little more than a bad dream now- a bad dream and a wonderful awakening.” He turned to Link. “Thanks to your efforts, there is no longer any danger of a great flood laying waste to Hyrule. You appeased Vah Ruta and thusly saved Zora’s Domain- both our lands and people, but most importantly, our Princess. You brought Lady Mipha back to us! What you did for us is more than we could have ever expected of you. We are truly, deeply, forever grateful.” A stir of clapping broke out and King Dorephan quieted it with a gentle hand.

“Link, all of the Zora thank you from the depths of our hearts for your heroic and selfless work…and you too, Sidon.” Beside Link, Sidon’s head jerked up.

“As your father, I am proud of your fight against the Divine Beast beside Link, and as your King, I am beyond appreciative. You have grown much recently. I know you will be a worthy heir when your time comes.”

Sidon stared, dumfounded. “Father, I- thank you.”

“The heavy rains have stopped, and the Divine Beast is our ally once again,” King Dorephan continued. “This is glorious! Truly wonderful.  So let us eat, dance, be merry; let us show a true example of Zora gratitude!”

One of the Zora whistled, setting off a roar of applause, and Link felt his ears grow hot. Sidon squeezed Link’s hand, eyes alight, and over the clapping came bright, rich drum beats. Servers brought platers overflowing with food and music blossomed through the room from strange instruments Link had never heard before. The food platers across the table glistened and steamed; Link scooped a smoked hearty salmon on the plate, then some sweet smelling greens, cubed raw fish, fried octorock tentacles, fresh oysters- he’d never seen so much food in one place, and the sheer number of options was wonderfully overwhelming.

He had just downed an oyster when a group of giggling Zora crowded around them. One girl pulled at Sidon’s arm while a plump, pink Zora leaned down and threw her arm over Link’s shoulders.

“Come dance with us!” she said. “Come on, come and dance!”

The Zora in Link’s face smiled and Link realized he technically hadn’t taken a night off in a hundred years- a night submerged in music and friendly faces actually sounded fun.

“Pardon me, but if you don’t mind, could I steal him for a moment?” The girl draped across him bolted up, smacking her head on the table’s edge.

 “Lady Mipha!” she squeaked. “I didn’t notice you there.”

“Could I speak with you?” Mipha asked Link, paying no attraction to the Zora girls that jumped to coo over their friend and the soon-to-be bruise on her head. “Privately?” Link glanced at Sidon and the group of Zora, mourning his night before it even began, and nodded. Mipha grabbed hold of his wrist and almost yanked him out of his wheelchair, bolting towards a door before he even had the chance to move. She broke through the crowd into a silent hallway.

The party echoed darkly through the hall, bouncing around the softly glowing walls. Mipha jerked to a stop below one of the wide windows that lined the hall, the stars just visible as the sun began to set. The giant outline of the calmed Vah Ruta cast deep shadows across the city streets. From here Mipha’s statue shone clearly. Link wondered if the royal family spent nights watching her likeness from windows instead of sleeping, and if the statue served as a comfort or simply a grim reminder of what they lost- no, what they almost lost. Didn’t lose. Beside him Mipha stared down at it too. Did the memorial make her uncomfortable?

“I want to give you something.” she said. She fiddled with the clasp of her bracelets, and the thinly vailed nervousness in her voice surprised him.

_‘Is everything alright?’_

“Yes, I’ve just- I’ve been thinking. You’ll be leaving soon, and I want you to be able to take care of yourself.”

Link laughed _. ‘Mipha, I’m more than capable-’_

“Please, just let me finish.” Mipha said.

“You’ll be leaving soon, and all I can think about is the possibility that our friends might have survived these hundred years as well. That they may be alive and waiting-” She leaned forwards in her wheelchair, their knees almost touching. “I can’t come with you. I can’t be there beside you, but I know I can still help. So I want to give you a piece of my Grace.” She held her hands out to him as she finished. Her fingers glowed, looking almost ghostly in the dim light. Link didn’t know what to say. His hands felt heavy and dumb in his lap.

“Link?”

Mipha’s face shone, her eyes determined. Link hadn’t thought of the other Champions; he’d been too wrapped up in pain elixirs and doctors’ visits to even consider them, but now that Mipha spoke the thought into existence it rumbled in his chest. They could be alive, couldn’t they? They could be alive. 

 _‘Yes,’_ he signed. ‘ _Alright.’_

Mipha let out a deep sigh and Link wondered just long she’d been thinking about this. She looked other worldly in the dim light, and when she took his hands he worried for a moment that she might not be solid, just a red and green ghost, glimmering inches out of reach.

She brought their hands to her mouth, and Link felt her breath on his knuckles as she mumbled something in a language he didn’t recognize. She sat inches from him, close enough for him to see the individual scales of her face, and while he figured this was supposed to be an intimate, serious moment Link couldn’t help the awkward energy building up around him.

Just as he began to wonder if anything was really happening, a cold washed over him that forced the air from his lungs. It took hold of him, sending him tumbling back into dark waters. He sunk faster than a stone, the black waters flooding his mouth and nose and ears. The sand underneath him struggled to settle, the silty haze blocking out the sunlight that fought to break through the water’s surface, but when the rays finally touched him they warmed his skin until he could finally breathe again.

He opened his eyes, gasping for air- there was no sun, just the glowing of his fingers in Mipha’s hands, blue, green, and beautiful.

Mipha waited patiently for him to catch his breath.

 _‘Is all magic like that?’_ He signed. Mipha laughed, the anxiety draining from her face.

“You want to find out?” She bit down hard on the soft flesh between her thumb and pointer finger, her sharp teeth mangling the flesh. Link stared at her in horror- blood dripped from her hand like lazy raindrops, splattering across her lap as she wiped the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Let’s begin.” She held out her hand with casual confidence, as if she hadn’t just bitten a chunk out of it.

“Don’t worry,” she said, noticing his wary look, “the whole point is to heal it anyways, right?” Link nodded and took her hand. The warmth of her blood was an unsettling difference from her icy scales.

“How would you do it?”

Link studied her hand from a moment.

_‘Really wish it to be healed? Or really want it to be?’_

“You don’t _want_ it to be healed, you _need_ it to be.” Mipha said, trying to enunciate as best as she could. “For example- I need to heal my hand because I need to show you how to, and I need to do that because I want you to be safe, and I need that because- it goes so on and so on. It’s like a chain of needs.” As she spoke her hand grew steadily lighter until magic twitched on her fingers, waiting patiently to wipe away the blood on her hand. She flexed her hands and the light faded.

“You try.”

Link leaned over the hand and closed his eyes. He needed this because- he needed this because… he needed to learn, and he needed to learn because he needed to heal.

He opened his eyes and his hands were distinctly not magical.

“What are you thinking?”

Link repeated it back to her and she shook her head.

“You need to dig a little deeper than that. You just keep going until everything slots into place. It’s like… It’s like you’re trying to convince the magic to let you use it.”

Link thought having to beg magic to work sounded unreasonable and awfully stupid, but he bit back the thought and tried again:

He needed to do this because he needed to learn, and he needed to learn because his friends might be alive, (even if he didn’t remember them, or they were mad at him for making them wait a hundred years, or if he couldn’t figure this _stupid_ magic out and they all died before he even managed to pull them out of their Beasts)-

“Link!” His head snapped up- he realized Mipha had been called his named for a while now. “You’re thinking too much.”

 _‘How are you supposed to think without thinking about it?’_ He signed, his fingers catching on the repeated words, signs tight. This was ridiculous, and Mipha’s blood congealing all over his hands felt disgusting. Mipha smiled gently, and while Link knew it was supposed to be reassuring, mostly it just made him feel like an idiot.

“It’s not the words you are focusing on, it’s the emotions that come with it. When I am healing, I slide into the emotions that come with the words. They work together- if you don’t have both then you’re just talking to yourself.”

Link let out a steadying breath. Emotions. Great. He closed his eyes and curled over her.

He needed this because Mipha was hurt, and even if she didn’t seem to be in pain, he felt guilty that she went and took a bite out of her hand for him- but he was flattered that she trusted him enough to do this. The feelings were contradictory, but they both came together lightly in his stomach, tickling his insides. He needed to heal her because he needed to learn, needed to bring this skill with him to help his friends, even if he wasn’t sure they were friends anymore. The determination behind it was warm, flooding his chest like lake water, and Link began to notice sensations in his hands, like a pulsing heartbeat. When he opens his eyes, his fingers are blue, the magic barely visible and weakly trembling, but there. The magic blinked out almost as soon as it appeared, but Link still would have jumped from his chair if he could, hollering to the wide empty hall about his blue fingers. Instead he grabbed Mipha by the shoulders and almost knocks her from her chair when he pulls her into a suffocating hug, ignoring how her tail crest jammed into his face.

“Let’s try again.” Mipha gasped against his chest and Link released her, grabbed hold of her sluggishly bleeding hand. It came easier to him this time, though still confusing as he rummaged around in his head trying to connect to feelings and needs. After a few minutes his hands began to glow with magic, this time strong enough to stay when Link opened his eyes. He squeezed Mipha’s hand tight, and she hissed at the slight pain before holding her now bite-less hand out before him.

“Congratulations!” She grinned, wiping the blood off on the pretty white sash draped around her. Link could almost hear Muzu’s distressed muttering at the mess- it was amazing he’d even let Mipha stay out of his sight for this long. The old man gave Link a surprisingly sincere apology after Link first woke, standing at the foot of the bed with his head bowed, not asking for forgiveness for his actions, just acknowledging his wrong doings. Watching the way he followed Mipha around, like he feared that she might disappear if he let go for only a moment, struck a sympathetic cord in Link’s heart. Link was surprised when he first realized he wasn’t angry with Muzu. He was just a sad old man- a sad old man who’d finally been reunited with his almost-daughter after all these years.

“It gets easier with time. I struggled as a child, especially after Mother died.” Mipha furrowed her brow.

“I wonder if such knowledge could have helped the Princess…” she said, so quiet Link wasn’t sure if it was something he was supposed to hear. Mipha fixed her eyes on her glowing likeness down in the square.

“I’m going to return to my chambers- It’s embarrassing how little stamina I have now. You should go back to the party. If you see Muzu tell him I haven’t gone and died in some corner. You know how he gets.” Mipha smiled. It really was amazing how much she looked like Sidon.

She turned, leaving Link feeling strangely euphoric and melancholy at the same time. He brushed off the lingering sadness as he wormed his way back into the dining room.

Sidon was easy to spot- he towered over the crowd and his laughed carried, even with the soaring music.

“Decided to finally come join us?” Sidon asked.

 _‘Teach me how to dance.’_ Link signed. For once the mass of bodies around him exhilarated instead of exhausted, and he could feel the beat of the drums in his bones. _‘I haven’t danced in a hundred years.’_

\---

Once the split was off and the healers gave Link their seal of approval, King Dorephan left Link with a plethora of parting gifts that Link knew he probably needed but still felt awkward accepting: dozens of elixirs, packs of medical supplies, and, most importantly, a horse.

She was a beautiful creature, with grey-blue coat and elegantly braided mane, and while Link had never ridden a horse, he knew as soon as he ran a hand down her neck that, back before he died and the world went to shit, he practically lived on the back of a horse. A Zora guard, one of the only ones small enough to ride a horse, told him her name was Ru, and showed him how to remove her tack, rub her down, and pick her hooves.

‘ _I have no idea where I should even be going.’_ Link signed later that night, lounging in Mipha’s bedroom. He sat at the edge of Mipha’s sleeping pool, pants rolled to his knees, flipping through the Sheikah slate while Mipha treaded water, resting her head against his knees. Sidon kicked lazily on the far end of the pool, sending gentle ripples.

‘ _The Gorons are the closest.’_

“I don’t like the idea of you running around a volcano, even if Death Mountain hasn’t been active in years.”

“It is, now-” Sidon piped up “- the Goron I brought here told me all about the tremors and magma balls they’ve been having.”

“Death Mountain- active? Goddesses above…”

' _It could be Vah Rudania.’_ Link signed.

“I don’t doubt it.” Sidon answered, sinking deeper into the pool. “If Vah Ruta could cause so much trouble here, it seems very plausible that Vah Rudania could be aggravating the volcano.”

Mipha chewed on her lip. “What about the Rito?”

_'Vah Medo?’_

“You used to spend a lot of time there. You and the Princess both had a soft spot for the place. I’d leave the volcano for later. Go see the Rito.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to reclaim Vah Rudania as fast as possible, given the threat of an active volcan-” Mipha narrowed her eyes and Sidon snapped his mouth shut. “Or Vah Medo. I hear Tabantha is beautiful this time of year.”

Link laughed. _‘You’re a tyrant.’_ Link signed to Mipha, and poked her with his foot.

“A tyrant who’ll pull you down in here if you’re not careful.”

_‘You’d ruin the slate.’_

“It floats- do you remember when Sidon dropped it off Ruta?” Sidon groaned.

 “Oh, please, Mipha-”

“Sidon _hated_ the Princess when she first started coming to the Domain, even more than he disliked you. Truly, I don’t think Sidon likes anyone’s company-” Mipha stopped.

 “ _Liked_ anyone’s company.” She corrected softly. Her eyes hung heavily on Sidon’s face. It must hurt, Link thought, to wake up after a hundred years to a world different than you used to know. To find your home a ghost of its former self, your people exhausted, friends dead- brother all grown up, having lived a hundred years of his life without you by his side.  Link put his slate aside, its screen still blinking yellow and blue, and ran his hand down her crest. At least when he woke up he couldn’t remember what he lost.

Mipha straightened and cleared her throat. “He was a very shy, stand offish child. It took ages for him to warm up to you, Link, and he never quite warmed up to the Princess-”

“Because she babied me!” Sidon said defensively. “You make me sound like some kind of bitter recluse-”

“He wanted to see the inside of the Ruta. I told him it was very off limits, but one day when you, Zelda, and I went up to work on some calculations he snuck inside. I was furious, but the Princess was absolutely delighted- she loved that he was interested in the technology. She showed him the slate and the control panel, and all sorts of things-”

“And I got bored-”

“Sidon grew bored and went to sit in a corner with the slate-”

“I wasn’t messing around or anything! I just wanted to take some pictures-”

“He dropped it out a window. We rushed down and found it in the water, floating, and I thought the Princess might faint. Genuinely faint.”’

Link found it hard to laugh at the story- the reminiscing was meant for three, but only two could participate. Being the odd one out was uncomfortable. Still, he held onto the words. He may not be able to picture the events, but knowing they happened was better than the shaky black hole in his head.

 _‘What was the Princess like?’_ Link asked. Mipha’s face crinkled. She paused to think.

“Very curious. No information was bad information in her eyes- she kept a meticulous journal, though she refused to let anyone see it. She… I believe she couldn’t tell which skin she should fit into. I saw her in many positions- diplomat, Princess, a researcher and expert- but she never seemed comfortable in any of them. She seemed happiest on those days out inside Ruta, but even then there was a shadow over her. I don’t think Zelda was ever truly happy.” Mipha settled quietly against him, and Sidon drifted next to his sister.

“I truly hoped we would come to call each other best friends, but then our time ran out.” She said finally, breaking the silence. “I hope she isn’t suffering.” Her words became a reminder that he had to leave in the morning

“You should stay. Just for a few more nights.” Sidon said, leaning up on the edge of the pool beside Link. Link didn’t answer. He didn’t need to- the three of them knew that wasn’t an option. Zelda was waiting. Everyone was waiting.

“You should get some sleep,” Mipha said softly, holding gently to his shin. “It’ll be a long ride tomorrow.” Link hummed in reply. A long ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo this is late. I know I said summer would mean faster updates but apparently i jinxed myself. I write chapters two at a time so I always have a back up if writing one takes a long time and lemme tell ya it took forever to finish the second chapter, meaning I couldn't upload this one for awhile. 
> 
> All that aside, I love this chapter! It was so much fun to write and this is the first time I've really felt 100% confident in a chapter. Some of these interactions are ideas I've had since thanksgiving, and were what made me want to write linger on in the first place. Also, I think this is the longest chapter I've written before, so thats something. Im rambling, but basically I'm excited about this haha
> 
> Thank you guys sooooo much for your feedback! Reading ya'll comments honestly make me blush, they make me so happy. And we've reached over 100 kudos! I couldn't do it without your support, so thank you so, so much. (also if you want my tumblr is genderfluidsheik if you'd like to come talk to me)
> 
> Have a lovely day!


	6. Chapter 6

The most surprising thing to Link once he moved past the tall cliffs of Zora’s Domain and up north into the Woodland region, was how he clearly he could see Tabantha’s tower across the sky. The tower served as his own kind of North Star as he traveled, an unwavering orange line upon the horizon. Now it stood proud amongst the rocky terrain, casting a shadow over Link and the road. He breathed in the chilly Tabantha air. He may have missed the Dueling Peaks’ and Lanayru’s towers, but he wasn’t going to miss this one.

A gentle breeze followed him all morning, cold enough to be noticeable, but not too cold for him to care. Link shifted in Ru’s saddle. The Tabantha frontier felt nothing like the humid heaviness of Lanayru, and its clean, paved roads varied drastically from the overgrown dirt paths he had followed through the Woodland region. The roads there were so faded that it was hard to pick them out of the flowing grasses, and the hills were flooded with green, backlit by the dense trees of Great Hyrule Forest. It would have been beautiful if not for Hyrule castle. The castle spilled out Ganon’s influence from miles away; the flaming smog above it mingled with the clouds, and even the wind was tainted with the smell of malice.

He passed travelers only once, a small handful of maybe 4 or 5 on the road, all planning to move as far away from upper Hyrule and her Great Forest as possible.

“There’s ghosts in that forest, boy.” one woman told him as they shared a meal. “Men go in, never get out. Man-eating wolves, monsters, ghosts- the place is crawling with devils. You’d do well to stay clear of it.”

Once he left the group, wishing them well on their travels, the road became still. The sheer emptiness of the plains unsettled Link, just as the silence of the Great Plateau had; he saw more ruined foundations than homes. No towns, no houses, nothing but empty wells and smashed caravans. Wolves prowled through the tall grasses and undergrowth, singing most nights as twilight approached. The sound of them made Ru anxious and Link knew better than to camp out in the open. The last thing he needed was for a wolf to take a chunk out of his horse while he slept. One night, when wolves sounded particularly close, he found a burnt cluster of ruins that may have once been a village and forced open the door of one of the buildings to settle down in.

The door had been barricaded with chairs and overturned tables, the wood swollen with water and rot, the walls black with soot, still scarred from a hundred year old fire. Once he cleared the furniture from the entrance he led Ru inside to the largest room of the two room house. It sat empty, most likely the source of the barricade’s fodder. Ru twitched her tail, already put on edge by the wildlife, and now having to hole up in here, cramped and uncomfortable. Link gave her a swift carrot in apology after he removed her tack. He ran his hand down her neck as she ate. She really was a beautiful girl.

He found a bed in the next room, the wood frame weak but surprisingly intact. The roof had fallen in, leaving a gaping window above him. While the night sky through it was beautiful, the sight of the crumbling ceiling gripped hard onto Link’s heart. The bed was large- did two lovers shared it? Siblings? A parent and child? Did they leap from it as hordes of guardians swarmed outside, blowing off limbs and charring bodies? Had the two of them trembled, terrified they would be next, as they pushed everything they could find against doors and windows?

 _There’s no bones_ , a hopeful voice inside him said, _No bodies, no bones. Maybe they escaped. Maybe they lived._

Link grabbed onto the thought for the rest of the night.

The trek into Tabantha after that was simple and uneventful. He watched the landscape flow from empty rolling hills to rocky, yellow outcrops and followed his orange tower. Now it stretched up directly above him, the base just a few hundreds of yards away. Rocks broke up the road, hunks of stone piled together in rough formations. As Link approached the base of the Sheikah tower he gagged on the stench of rot and bile that hung into the air. Sure enough, when he dismounted and crept around a boulder he could see malice painting the rocks red and purple. Broken columns slanted down around the pools of malice, held in place by the reeking tar. Bokoblins patrolled the site, moving in packs under the orders of a hulking black moblin who leaned on his knight’s claymore and picked whatever was left in his lunch out of bloody teeth.

Link looped Ru’s reins over a drooping tree branch. The pack closest to him looked smaller than the others, and the rocks behind them were mostly free of malice. They seemed like the least amount of trouble- if he snuck past them and took out the moblin he might be able to jump from a column and up onto the tower’s rungs . Best case scenario, he’d be halfway up the tower before they even noticed him. Link unbuckled his saddle bag. At the very bottom, still wrapped in its delicate paper, the Sheikah emblem of Paya’s armor stared up at him. Link pulled his shirt over his head and slid off his belt. The cool air raised goosebumps on his arms as he put on the armor- Link already noticed the difference in sound as he hoisted himself up over the boulder for a better vantage point. Even his breath seemed softer.

Two bokoblins crept away from their group and sat alone, entertaining themselves by throwing various things into the pools of malice. One threw something small and feathered; the bird shrieked as it hit the tar, and as it burned the bokoblins’ laughter blotted out its cries. Link glared down at them. His soldier’s bow wasn’t the most powerful, but as he nocked an arrow, watching the bokoblins throw in another live victim and cackle at its thrashing, he let his arrow fly with as much force as he could.

The arrow buried into the neck of the left most bokoblin, and before the second could even squeal another arrow sprouted out from its face. One bokoblin tumbled down into the malice, which bubbled and hissed as it began to strip the flesh from the monster’s bones. Link slid off the rock and crept closer to the base of the tower, stepping carefully over the disintegrating corpse. He scrambled over the stones behind them and prayed his footsteps would be silenced enough to mask his climbing. Link pulled his legs over a rock outcrop just as another bokoblin moved past, muttering to itself with its broadsword dragging on the ground.

The leading moblin stood below him, only meters away. Just as Link drew back the bowstring the moblin turned its head.  It yanked its claymore from the dirt and opened its mouth to call to its pack, and Link didn’t think, just fired on instinct -  _breathe in, breathe out; let the fletching brush by –_ and the arrow sunk deep into the moblin’s eye. It dropped, pink and red soaking its face and seeping over the rocks.

Link bolted up onto one of the leaning pillars and leapt sideways onto the tower, digging his fingers into its rungs. For a terrifying moment he dangled, before catching hold of the rungs with his feet. A horn blast echoed off the stones just below him as the packs noticed their missing leader, followed by a group of squeals as one spotted him. An arrow struck the rungs, just inches away from his foot, then another where his hand had been just moments before. Link’s fingers brushed over the top of the tower and with a last bit of stamina he hauled himself over.

Link took a deep, steadying breath and shook out his hands. The guidance stone hummed as it dripped information onto his Sheikah slate, and he watched the drops fall as the adrenalin pumping in his throat began to fade away. The map of Tabantha unfolded onto the slate’s screen- Rito Village settled in the northwest, surrounded by a wide lake and crescent moon forests. If the roads further into Tabantha were in just as good shape as the ones he’d passed then it should be two days by horse, likely less.

 Arrows plunked uselessly against the rungs from the bokoblins below. Link leaned over the tower’s railing. He could take them all out. He had the high ground- he could shoot them down, leaving nothing but sprays of red and gurgling malice. One bokoblin noticed him and screeched, shaking its tiny red fist. It threw a rock, which bounced harmlessly off the tower side back into its face, smacking its big, piggy nose. The bokoblin whined as blood began to drip from its face and poked gently at its nose; some of the monsters around him forgot their anger to sit and pat the bokoblin’s face. They all sniffled together. Link lowered his bow. There were better uses for arrows.

\---

The weather forced Link to change out of the Sheikah armor eventually. Link decided he quite liked the armor- the fabric was soft and light, certainly more breathable than the thick cotton of his tunic, and there was a strange comfort that came from wearing a mask. But as he continued up along Tabantha’s roads, the altitude rising and the temperature dropping, the growing chill forced him out of his Sheikah gear and into his warm doublet. He promised he would remember to thank Paya the next time he visited Kakariko.

Link passed more and more people as he moved, all traveling the opposite direction as him. His suspicions were confirmed when he found a stable just around the bend; they always seemed teaming with life, but the sheer number of people was surprising. Merchants and travelers streamed inside the small building or shouted to each other as they moved passed him. They hurried as a light drizzle opened up over head, the grey clouds threatening a heavier storm, and Link swallowed down frustration as the rain began to soak through the back of his doublet. Was a little break from storm clouds too much to ask? Link dismounted. He was done with traveling in the rain- he experienced more than enough of that with the Zora. He’d pay for the night and wait the rain out- the Rito could wait for one more day. Link passed off the reins to a stable hand, leaving a blue rupee in their hand as a tip, and unbuckled his packs from Ru’s saddle. He slung them over his shoulder just as the first pearl of thunder rolled across the sky.

 _'Bed and meal.’_ Link signed to the woman at the front desk. She slouched over the counter, dark circles under her eyes that looked almost cartoonish in size.

“Twenty rupees for a bed- soft beds not currently available- and ten for dinner.” She said. Her voice sounded even more exhausted than she looked. Link wondered how long she’d been working through all this commotion. He passed over the money and the woman sighed as another traveler pushed passed him to the counter, weighed down by goods. He raised his eyebrow when he met Link’s eye, a not so subtle offer to sell, and stumbled under the weight of his pack as an old woman shoved him aside to throw her rupees at the counter.

Link found his way to a table and plopped down. The air was thick, smoke rising from the fireplace in the far side of the room, a pot of something bubbling on top of it. The stable was small and stout- the back wall brick, the mortar black with age, and its uneven shape made Link suspect it came from some abandoned ancient building, probably left from the Calamity. New wood and canvas sprouted around it, using it as a backbone for the rest of the building. Old and new smashed together, steadily growing from the history of disaster that dusted over Hyrule like dirt on a windy day. It was a refreshing and reassuring sight.

“You paid for some dinner, right?” the stable hand in front of him asked. She looked around his age and a good four inches taller, tanned and freckled, but the most noticeable thing was her hair: full and fire red, curling softly at her waist. She placed a bowl of creamy, orange soup in front of him, with bits of ham and cheese floating on the top.

“So,” she said, leaning against the table. “Soldier, militia, or traveler?” Link blinked. She pointed to the sword on his back and the quiver at his hip. “You’re pretty well armed. Soldier, militia, or traveler?”

_‘Traveler?’_

“Just a traveler? I was hoping you were a knight or somethin’ with all that gear. Can I sit?” She sat before he could reply. “So, where are you heading to, Mr. Traveler?”

‘ _Link_ ,’ he signed. ‘ _My name’s Link_.’

“Malon.” The stable girl said, holding out her hand. It was rough, warm, and callused.

 _‘I’m heading to Rito Village.’_ He signed. She gave a low whistle, but Link didn’t hear her, already too busy eating. The soup tasted strangely familiar, _so_ much better than the dried meats and fruits he’d been eating out in the grasslands. He scarfed down a few messy spoonfuls and Malon laughed.

“The cheese is fresh- from our own goats. Gotta import the pumpkins though.” She said. Link wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Rito Village, huh? Then it’s a good thing you’ve got that sword. Bandits have been popping up more and more lately- feels like every other day we’ve got some poor guy wanderin’ in, stripped down to his shoes. All these people pouring out of the area means easy pickings for ‘em.”

_‘People leaving the area?’_

“Haven’t you seen the giant bird-thing in the distance? That’s why all everyone’s crowding the streets. The bird-thing’s been terrorizing the Rito for weeks now, but it could move at any time. What if it leaves Rito Village and comes southward? They’re all leaving while they still can.” Link nodded slowly. He hadn’t noticed any giant ‘bird-thing’ yet, but something like that so close to the Rito had to be Vah Medo. He looked out to the wide doors at the worsening storm. Two stable hands, soaked to the skin, sat at the open doors, welcoming in passersby.

“A stable’s door always stays open.” Malon said, noticing Link also watching them.  “Our job is to help people, keep them safe and, hopefully, happy. So the stable door stays open, no matter the time or weather- at least, my dad’s do. He owns a few stables in the area: Serene Stables, Rito Stables, Tabantha Bridge…”

' _Did you grow up in here?’_ Link asked. A child in a tiny, tiny uniform was outside in the rain, helping a woman unpack cargo - perhaps her sibling?

“Grew up a bit of everywhere, movin’ all over with my dad, but I started pulling my own weight around here at, what, 11 maybe? Sometimes I go down to Serene Stables and give a hand there, or go move goods around, but I’m here with the horses mostly.”

_‘You don’t wait tables?’_

“Oh Goddesses, _no_. Delilah is just pissed with me.” She flicked her head towards the woman at the counter. “Usually I’m down at the stalls, but I spooked away a customer a week ago, told him off for over working his donkey. So now I’m stuck on dish duty until _Delilah_ decides I’ve suffered enough. Working with customers is a pain- no offence” She said. Link waved it off.

”They’re just so rude- horses don’t give you shit unless you deserve it. I sneak out to the stalls every now and then when she’s napping; help with the tack and brush ‘em down. Sooner or later she’ll cave. Andrew- our other horse boy- he has no idea what he’s doing, poor guy. Somebody’s gotta help him out.” She shifted back in her chair, stretching out her long legs under neither the table. “So- why bother going to Rito Village anyways?” She asked.

 _‘Giant bird-thing. I’m going there to help however I can._ ’  Link signed. Malon laughed.

“That’s awfully noble.”

 _'Not noble- necessary.’_ She smiled and brushed a piece of hair behind her ear

 “My dad would like you, Link the Traveler. He’s in Rito Stable right now- none of the stable hands stayed. It’s too close to Rito Village for them, but dad refuses to leave.” She stopped and looked him over, eyes lingering on his sword. “Would you do me a favor? Would you stop by Rito Stable and check on him on your way to the village? You’ll recognize him easy- big nose, bigger mustache. It’s only a day’s ride if you move fast and don’t stop.”

Malon’s eyes looked a sleepy kind of sad, the kind that was so constant it became almost unnoticeable. Link wondered how long it her father had been away- how long Vah Medo lingered over his head while she waited alone. No one should have to wait alone.

_‘Why don’t you just come with me?’_

“What?”

_‘You said it’s only a day’s ride. You could leave, see him, and come back before anybody realized you were gone.’_

“Delilah would notice.”

_‘Are you that scared of her?’_

A twinge of a smile began to grow on Mal’s lips as she considered the offer. “I’m not scared of anyone!”

_‘Then come!’_

“…I _do_ know a side route that would let us avoid the congested roads. I used to use it a lot when I’d make cheese runs to the Rito.” She said. “We could make it in record time- and of course,” she stood and stretched, voice suddenly high and dramatic, “you’d protect me with your big sword.”

 _‘Any foul beast we meet shall taste the sting of my blade.’_ Link puffed up his chest and lifted his chin. Malon snorted.

“Oh, sweet traveler, what would my waifish self do without your aid?”

Link leaned forwards in his chair, as close as he could to Malon. _‘Perish_.’ Mal squeezed his shoulder.

“In all honesty though, you gotta be careful. Bandits are one thing, but a patron told us he saw a Yiga soldier on his way back from Rito Village a few days ago. The third sighting this month.” Link frowned. Yiga clan. He heard of them only once, when Cado pulled him aside after first meeting with Impa.

“They’re traitors,” Cado had said, voice low. “Sheikah who betrayed their people, their history, and turned against the royal family. They dedicated themselves to aiding Ganon however they can. I doubt you’re presence has gone unnoticed- right now, you’re their Master’s biggest theat.” Cado leaned in close, gripping tight onto Link’s arm. “Watch your steps, Link. Beware of the Yiga clan. They are not to be underestimated.”

Link patted Mal’s hand.

_‘Don’t worry. I like to think I know how to use this sword pretty well.’_

Malon smiled. “Would you like another bowl?” She said, holding up his empty one. “On the house-” she winked “Just don’t tell anyone.”

\--

The rain stopped by time Link woke up, thank the Goddess. It was chilly enough as it was, and a drizzle would have made everything worse. The sky was a haze, fog swirling just out of reach and blotting out the threadbare sunlight. Link rubbed his hands together. Getting out of bed this morning proved to be difficult, with the cold air drifting past the open doors and the thick, smoky quilt wrapped around him. Now as he stood in the morning cold he wanted nothing more than to crawl back under the covers- waking at dawn was easy when you slept on the ground out the in open, but when it meant leaving a warm bed it felt like torture.

 “Rainy and foggy- I swear if a cold spell rolls in this early in the year I’m gonna move to the Gerudo Desert.” Malon came around the edge of the building, their horses on lead reins beside her. She passed Ru off to him and slipped into the saddle of her own horse so fast and smoothly it looked unnatural. The horse didn’t have Ru’s striking kind of beauty; he was just simple and plain, but still formidable. Malon ran a gentle hand along his neck.

 “You’re horse’s awfully pretty.” Malon said as Link hoisted himself onto Ru’s back. Link moved his fingers down her mane, catching on a few knots.

_‘Gift from a Zora.’_

“Zora? I didn’t know they rode horses.”

_‘They don’t.’_

Malon clicked her tongue and the horse spurred forward. Link followed close behind as they moved off the paved road and onto a sliver of trodden dirt. There was little room for conversation between the two of them as they moved. Malon promised they would be there in a day, and she seemed to be hell bent on keeping that promise as she moved forwards at breakneck speeds. Link could immediately tell when they began to get close- when he glanced up to the clouds from his position bent over Ru’s neck he almost fell out of rhythm with her gait. Malon slowed to a trot and let him readjust, but Link mostly just stared at the giant, stone bird gliding in the air. It moved in slow, lazy circles, and in that one look Link knew it had to be Vah Medo. Nothing so large could stay afloat like that unless it was interlaced with Sheikah tech.  

“That’s the bird-thing.” Malon said, not even glancing up. “It’s somethin’, isn’t it?” She decided it was as a good time for lunch as any and slipped out of the saddle, slick as oil. She flopped down on the tall grass and Link settled down beside her. The chill kept getting worse, now so bad that Link dug out a pair of gloves from his pack. They’d belonged to the old man- King?- , just as the doublet had, and while Link could cuff the sleeves and belt the waist of the doublet to make it fit his much-smaller-than-the-King frame, there was no changing how absurdly big the gloves were on his hands.

“Maybe it is a good thing you’re going to Rito Village.” Malon said, mouth full of apple. “They’ll have _proper_ warm clothes there, ‘cus if a cold spell is rolling in, you’re in for a bad time.”

_‘Rather be waiting tables right now?’_

 “Goddess, no. Delilah won’t allow anyone to sit and eat while customers are eating- unprofessional looking or somethin’. I wouldn’t be eating ‘til sundown. Can’t wait til dad comes home and knocks her off her high horse.” She passed Link a water skin. He took a deep swig and gagged.

‘ _That’s_ not _water.’_ He signed, and wiped the chokingly strong alcohol from his chin.

“’Course not, it’s some of Andrew’s toddy. Keeps you warm.”

 _‘Alcohol makes you feel warmer, but lowers your core body temperature.’_ He signed, almost out of reflex. Someone told him that- probably Mipha or the Princess.

“Your loss.” Malon took a small sip. “Though, toddy is nothing like spiced wine on a freezing day, during that first snow of the season- did you hear that?” She screwed the cap on the drinking skin. “I could have sworn I-”

 “Help!” Link leapt to his feet at the voice and Malon slowly stood.

“I don’t see anyone. Do you-?” Malon said, glancing around the flat, empty roadside. The voice callout again and Link bolted after it.

“Wait-” Malon called after him. “Damn it, Link! Wait up!”

Link barely made it 30 meters before he almost tripped over the voice’s owner, who lay sprawled in the grass.

“Shit.” Malon breathed as she came up over Link’s shoulder. The man was dressed simply and cleanly, but his face was red and sticky with tears. His left eye was swelling, soon to be purple, one ankle twisted in an unnatural direction- blood seeped from the other one.

“Oh, thank Hylia!” He said, voice thick and tight with crying.

“What happened?” Malon asked, crouching to see his ankles.

“Bandits. They took off with my horse and left me here.” He swallowed deeply and Malon probbed the bleeding ankle, rolling up his pant leg to get a better look at his bare feet. “I- I thought, I thought I was going to die.” He whispered before breaking into a fresh wave of tears. Malon turned over her shoulder to Link, face crinkled and dark.

“His ankle is looks shattered. It may not be… fixable…” She said softly. The man’s cries turned hysterical.

 “Not fixable? _Not fixable_? Oh God, I’m going to lose my foot- they’re going to cut my foot off, _oh God, oh God-_ ”

“Sir,” Malon said, resting a careful hand on his thigh, “I need you to stay calm, okay? There’s a stable just a few miles away. My friend and I can take you there and get you help.” Link moved beside her.

 _‘I’m good with healing.’_ Link signed, which wasn’t _quite_ the truth but was better than saying nothing. _‘Let me see him.’_ Malon scooted to the side.

_‘Can you sit up?’_

“With some help, yes.” The man stuck out his hand and Link grabbed hold of it. Instead of letting Link pull him up he yanked Link down almost on top of him, so close that Link’s nose brushed his swollen cheek. The man smelled strange, like old spices and magic.

“Hello, Hero,” he breathed in his ear. “Fancy meeting you here.”

There was a flash of bright red light and a blast of heat and smoke in Link’s face. He reeled back, eyes watering. The stone strong hand around his own ripped him back to the ground. The man rolled on top of him, pinning down his shoulders with his knees. The bruised, tear stained face was gone- a bastardized Sheikah emblem stared down at him, red as blood. Malon screamed and Link jammed his knee up into his stomach, stunning the Yiga foot soldier enough to scramble out from under him.

The soldier was up as soon as Link was, a vicious curved blade in his hand. He surged forwards, far faster than Link could have expected, and swiped at Link’s gut, slicing through the outer fabric of his doublet. Link stumbled back and raised his sword. The force of the Yiga soldier’s blow forced him back- the sickle’s edge caught on the blade. Link jerked his hands to the side, almost ripping it from the foot soldier’s grip. The soldier abandoned his weapon, pulled down, and dropped.

He slid between Link’s legs- Link spun and the soldier caught him in the face midturn, fist smashing into his cheekbone. Link didn’t feel that bone break, but knew the exact moment his nose did as the soldier grabbed him by the hair and snapped his head down onto the soldier’s knee. Link could taste blood and snot, soaking his lips and dripping down the back of his throat.

The soldier took a step forwards, fingers curling and uncurling, elbows propped up into a boxer’s stance. He moved to strike Link again when a fist sized rock slammed into his shoulder. The Yiga soldier jerked still and whipped around to where Malon stood, her arm pulled back and ready to let another rock fly. Her eyes widened and every drop of blood drained from her face as he bolted towards her. He didn’t make it far. Link grabbed him by the waist, hoisted him in the air and slammed him down into the grass. The soldier choked as all the air was forced from his lungs, then again as Link slammed his foot down into his gut. He put as much weight on him as he could, pinning him in place, and brought the tip of his blade to the Yiga soldier’s neck.

“We’re watching you, Hero.” He wheezed, his words muffled by the mask. His Hylian accent was gone, replaced by a sharp, husky Sheikah one. “We have eyes everywhere. We see every step you walk, every breath you take- every friend you meet.” Link leaned forward, digging his heel further into his chest. “Beware the eyes of the Yiga.” The soldier brought his hands together. A sharp snap echoed through the air and a spill of red covered him.

When the smoke faded the singed grass beneath the soldier was empty. All that was left was a few slips of spell paper that began to flutter away with the wind. Link grabbed one- there was writing on it, not unlike the ancient Sheikah letters he saw in inside his slate, painted with a careful hand in red ink. The paper grew painfully hot and melted away into ash in his hands. Link wiped it on his trousers and spat blood on the grass. He turned to Malon, whose face still looked grey. Link sheathed his sword.

“Your face…” she said. Her hand twitched, as if she meant to reach out to him and wipe the dripping red from his mouth.

 _‘It’s fine.’_ It didn’t feel fine, not at all. His cheek was already tight with swelling. At least now he’d have a chance to practice with some of Mipha’s Grace.

 _‘You okay?’_ He signed. Malon stood so still that Link thought think she didn’t see him at first. She slowly nodded. The Yiga foot soldier’s sickle lay just a few feet away from Link’s feet. He leaned down and picked it up before presenting Malon with the hilt. She gingerly took it, as if it might bite her, or her touch might summon back its owner.

“We should keep going.”  She murmured as she stared at its glittering metal. She hooked the blade at her slide and looked up at him. The _incase he comes back_ hung in the air even if she didn’t say it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Malon 100% should have been in botw, but I guess this is the next best thing. Also, our first yiga fight! I really hope it came out well because I'm planning on giving the yiga more importance than the game did. Its just such an interesting concept and I really want to explore it! 
> 
> Okay.... so I know its been a while since I updated. I had a really bad depressive episode that drained me of any energy and it just ruined everything. I'm on meds so I usually dont have problems with episodes like that anymore, but somehow it slipped through the cracks. I really hope it wont happen again and I can keep writing for ya'll. 
> 
> Thank you so much to the people commenting- it really does keep me writing fast, and it absolutely warms my heart. Have a lovely day!


	7. Chapter 7

They rode in silence for the rest of the day, not the easy, necessary silence of the morning’s ride but a painful, anxious one. Link wished they could slow down enough to talk, to stop the spiraling thoughts in his head. The Yiga could do that? They could look like anyone else?  Link had imagined them much differently, people almost akin to knights- not someone who would manipulate another person’s kindness. Had the Yiga soldier been laying there waiting for any random traveler who walked past, or had he been following them? The last thought was uncomfortable and likely true. Link glanced towards Malon. Riding seemed to help calm her. He shouldn’t have invited her to come. He should have known better.

“Do you smell smoke?” She asked as the path reconnected to the road and opened up to Rito Stable. Link couldn’t smell much of anything; the scent of magic still hovered around his head.

“Good heavens…”

Rito Village stretched upwards just a stone’s throw away, but its bridges and roosts were marked with ash. The clumps of trees that encircled the village’s rock formations hung low, now just the charred remains of a doused fire. The air was clear but still carried the greasy heaviness of old smoke. Malon dismounted. The front grounds of Rito Stable were still, but hordes of footsteps marked the muddy ground.

Above them, Vah Medoh circled the village, unsettlingly close. It cast deep shadows the ground, like a stone, distorted cloud. Link could see the pink glow from its eyes from down here and is seemed as soon as he met its gaze the Divine Beast screeched. The air shook even after the sound faded. Link recognized that sound. It was shriller than Ruta’s cries, high pitched and searing, but still the same call. It jerked up, rising higher back into the sky until the clouds swirled around it like a mask. How the hell was he even supposed to get up in that thing? He doubted it would come down for him.

_“Oh, of course, Hero! You ask so nicely, I just have to let you in!”_ It would say in its Sheikah-Bird-Screeching language, and he could be in-and-out and save the Rito by tomorrow night. Very likely.

One man sat on a bench outside the stable front, speaking quietly with a Rito woman. She balanced a dully colored fledgling on her hip; the little girl kept glancing behind her towards the mess that had once been Rito Village, wiggling in her mother’s arms. The man’s likeness to Malon was unmistakable, regardless of the mustache.

“Dad?” Malon called out. She latched onto Link’s wrist and yanked him along. “Dad!” She almost rammed into the Rito woman and jostled her grip on her child. Link gently took hold of Malon’s elbow and she seemed to remember herself.

 “Let’s get you inside.” Her father said to the Rito, and when he stood Link could almost hear the exhaustion creaking in his joints. “The little one can have a soft bed- don’t worry about the charge.” He patted her arm. “Harth and Molli will be fine. Kaneli will figure something out.” The Rito woman nodded but she didn’t seem soothed. Malon’s father waited until she was well past the wide stable doors to whip back around to them.

“Malon- I told you to stay with Delilah!” Malon’s father hissed, trying to keep his voice low, before all anger drained from his words. “You shouldn’t be here.” He sighed and pulled her close, his head barely up to her shoulders

“I missed you… Goddess above, what happened?”

“The damn bird-thing went and attacked again two days ago.” His voice was thick with defeated acceptance.

“Again? You _promised_ you would come back if something bad happened.” He shook off his daughter’s instance and turned towards Link.

“Talon.” Malon’s father said, shoving his hand out between the two of them.

_‘Link.’_

“Wonderful- Link, I think we should get you inside and grab you a basin, because there is blood in your teeth and it is very unappetizing to look at.” Link’s hand shot to his mouth. He thought he managed to scrub off most of the blood from his face, but apparently not.

He scrubbed at his gums with his fingers while Talon and Malon shared a table with the Rito woman. His fingers came away pink. His face ached, still blotchy and red. Mipha would have done a much better job fixing everything up, but his nose seemed relatively straight, so Link would call his healing job a success.

The woman’s child lay with her head on her mother’s lap and buried her face in the downy of her feathers. He wasn’t sure how Ritos aged- for all he knew they could live to the same outrageous numbers of the Zora- but to him she couldn’t be more than 6. Far too young to be forced to leave her home. He needed to walk up those bridges and find a way to get that stone monstrosity down here. He needed to kill the Blight that probably resided inside, he needed to help that poor woman and her people, he needed—he needed Mipha here. Having met (re-met?) her filled a small piece of the wide loneliness Link hadn’t realized he had. He needed her soft voice, her razor sharp smile- her company. He didn’t want to be alone.

Link rinsed the last of the dried blood and pinkness from his mouth and moved to Malon’s table. The Rito woman eyed his swollen cheek when she thought he wasn’t looking, a question pursed on her beak. Talon passed him a mug of warm, spiced milk. Link took off his gloves and squeezed onto the cup tight, as if that might speed up the process of warming his hands.

“So you’re heading up there to the Village?” Talon asked finally. He wiped the milk from his mustache with his shirt sleeve and smiled. “You know what they say: Rito Village of Lake Totori, where the men are fine archers and the women better singers.”

“Don’t. Just get out of here, before everything gets worse.” The Rito woman said. She swirled the milk in her cup instead of drinking. Link wondered if her blue feathers were always this colorless or if the stress stripped them of their shine. “The only people up there are idiots and want-to-be martyrs.”

_I can help.’_ Link signed, _‘I can appease Vah Medoh.’_

The woman laughed, bitter and joyless. “How exactly are you going to get up there? Even if you do, Vah Medoh will just shoot you out of the sky- if the blast doesn’t kill you then you can enjoy falling all the way down.”

“ _Eva_. There are children here.” Talon said softly.

“We’ve lost most of our warriors. My brother- my brother tried to get up there and now he can’t even fly. Just leave while you still can.”

_‘I can’t. I won’t.’_ Link’s finger moved steady and curt. Eva kept her eyes on the child in her lap.

“If you’re so determined to go no one will stop you. I’d talk to Elder Kaneli. I’m sure he’ll find something for you to do. Go on and kill yourself.” Eva sighed and ran a hand over her girl’s head. “I should put Celia to bed.” Talon nodded Eva’s way as she left, carefully perching her little girl on her shoulder.

“How could you stay here?” Malon hissed as soon as she was out of earshot, grabbing hard to Talon’s arm. “Dear Hylia, what’s wrong with you?” He patted her hand.

“Stables keeps its doors open, sweetheart.”

Link downed the dregs of his cup as they argued **.** The shakiness of Eva’s voice flared resolve in his gut, hot and unmovable. He flexed the chill from his fingers. He’d been up in the Beast a hundred years ago. He knew he could get into it now.

\---

The looming pillar of Rito Village glowed gold, back lit by the afternoon sun, and a mild breeze toyed with Link’s bangs as he stepped past the wooden posts arching over the entrance bridge.

It was easier to see the full extent of Medoh’s damage this close. The buildings closest to the ground were smoke damaged but not singed; only the roosts dangling high up from the sheer cliff face looked truly burned, ash scars brushing over wooden planks and beams. Still, Rito Village dripped charm, simple and soft. Color bled through the streaks of black, reds and yellows and greens.

 There was an emptiness though **,** something unblended about the village, something great now missing. This couldn’t have always been a cluster of bruised buildings, couldn’t have always been this tiny. Link felt a longing for a city he didn’t see, a swollen trade port of wool, ivory, and exotic meats, its influence stretching wide throughout Tabantha. The village before him was too small and simple for that story, but the vison of bustling movement swarming across these bridges till they groaned under the weight felt right. So right it made this quiet place feel wrong.

He passed a darkly colored Rito guard by the front gates leaning against a gatepost, head lulling in exhaustion as he moved up the steps, and a handful of children ran down the stairs beside him. They all took careful steps to avoid the ashen floor boards, careful not to leave black footprints behind, and it sent an uncomfortable feeling twisting up in Link’s gut.

A Goddess statue settled in a corner, well cared for and adorned with flowers. It was something familiar at least. Link hadn’t seen once since Kakariko, and its presence here was a pleasant surprise. Link ducked down into its alcove and settled beside it; the stone was icy, but warmth pulsed deep under the rock, something that couldn’t be felt with hands but was undeniably there. He didn’t know if that warmth was there for everyone. It likely was- Hylia loved all Her people- but Link liked to think it was reserved to him alone, some sort of cosmic ‘thank you’.

Back on the Plateau, Link had dropped to his knees as soon as he saw the towering Goddess statue, his body remembering a need to pray before his mind did. After hiking up to Keh Numut’s shrine, warm double only just keeping out Mount Hylia’s cold, he had sat with his back against the Goddess statue for what could have been minutes or hours, letting its warmth draw out the chill from his bones. Link had a feeling that he had been a religious man a hundred years ago. He thought he might like to be one this time too.

“You’re not supposed to touch that.”

A Rito child, pink and white, stared down at him with her chest puffed out in artificial grandiose. She seemed nervous under all those feathers, as if she expected him to snip back at her, so Link gave as welcoming of a smile as he could and hoisted himself off the ground, popping his shoulders as he straightened out.  

_‘Thank you for letting me know.’_ He signed. The little girl flicked her head and stood up straighter.

“You’re welcome! Daddy says I’m in charge now until he gets better, so I gotta make sure nobody’s breaking any rules.” She said.

_‘Of course- I’m sure you’re doing a wonderful job.”_ He crouched down to her eyelevel. _‘You wouldn’t happen to know where Elder Kaneli, would you?’_ She practically vibrated as she nodded. She grabbed hold of him and pulled him towards the stairs faster than his feet could move. The girl- now Molli- babbled about so on and so forth as they wound around stretches of stairs. Link had a sorry suspicion she was Eva’s Molli, and the strained edge under the girl’s voice pained him. The chatter blended together, Molli almost shouting about her grandfather and birds with treasure in their bellies, and Link took care to try and pay attention to everything she said. Kids deserved patience.

The Elder’s roost seemed surprisingly tame compared to the towering throne of King Dorephan- it matched the muted simplicity of Rito Village well. Elder Kaneli swelled out of his rocking chair, large but not intimidating in the slightest. His feathers were plain and his face was soft in a way that made Link want to tell him every secret, want, and wrong doing he had ever done.

“Good morning, Molli. Who’s this?” Elder Kaneli asked, voice gentle and not unlike the sound of slow water on stones. Molli stepped forwards and opened her mouth wide to answer—then closed it and shrunk back between her shoulders.

“I…don’t know.”

“A surprise then. How lovely.” Elder Kaneli shifted and the chair groaned under his weight. Noticing the attention quickly leaving her, Molli waddled out of the doorway and disappeared behind the frame. The Elder smiled after her.

“Even under these stressful times the Goddesses have truly blessed us with beautiful children.” The dwarfing shadow of Vah Medoh flashing through the roost’s wide windows cut the joy from his voice halfway through his sentence. Link braced for a deafening caw from above, but the shadow just silently crept across the floor and slinked on. Elder Kaneli sighed and forced the smile back onto his face.

“Welcome to Rito Village, traveler. I am Kaneli, Elder of the Rito. It is a pleasure to…oh- _oh._ ” The Elder leaned forwards, the rocking chair pitching with him. “That object on your hip- is that not a Sheikah slate?”  

Link settled his hand on the device at his hip and nodded.

“That means you must be a Champion like Master Revali! One of the few able to board Divine Beast Vah Medoh.” Elder Kaneli voice grew to a squeak before he sharply silenced himself. “Forgive me. The Champions have all been dead for a hundred years. You must be a decedent of a Champion- an inheritor of the slate.”

Link rasied his hands to correct him, somehow explain the situation that was beginning to sound more and more absurd in his head, but Elder Kaneli had already taken off again.

“Champion decedent, please. I hate to ask a favor of a visitor, but you have no doubt spotted our curse. Divine Beast Vah Medoh has circled overhead for weeks, raining down fire. Only a Champion can hope to control such a Beast- and you have a Champion’s blood in you! If you would just bring down Vah Medoh you would have my people’s eternal gratitude. I bef that you enter Vah Medoh and bend her to your will. _Please._ We are out of options.”

_‘Of course I will,’_ Link signed _. ‘That’s why I came in the first place- I freed Vah Ruta to the East. I know I can free Vah Medoh too.’_

At his words the Elder settled, the jittery energy slipping out from his feathers and melting out into the floor.

“Thank you, truly. I promise, this is not our first attempt- I feared that we had tried everything. Medoh struck down the Rito we sent up to investigate when she first appeared, then the warriors who tried to bring her down. Once she began to attack indiscriminately I forbade anyone from getting close but…” Elder Kaneli sighed and looked past the window towards the descending line of roosts, most empty, most charred. “Others still wanted to keep pushing further. I told them that at this point, attacking without a Champion was pointless, but they wouldn’t listen to reason. Two of our best, Teba and Harth, disobeyed me and flew up regardless.”

Link flinched at the sudden, piercing screech in the air and Elder Kaneli stiffened, gripping his chair rests hard enough for his wings to shake. He stayed hunched like that for almost a minute before loosening his limbs, breathing deep and slow.

“Teba returned-” Elder Kaneli swallowed, forced a cough, and began again. “Teba returned unscathed, but Harth was badly injured. I fear Teba plans to return to face the Beast alone… Champion descendent. We can no longer handle this on our own.”

 Link reached out and took Elder Kaneli’s hand, unsure if he was overstepping but knowing the need for comfort when he saw it. The Elder squeezed Link’s hand softly.

_‘I will do everything in my power to soothe Vah Medoh.’_ Link signed. _‘I promise.’_

The Elder nodded. Link hadn’t noticed the exhaustion hidden under his feathers, the lines and wrinkles around his eyes.

“Then I am forever grateful to you.”

\---

Link planned on asking Molli where he could find Teba, figuring he was Link’s best lead right now, but she was gone by the time he left the Elder behind. He almost turned around to ask Elder Kaneli for directions, but the old Rito had already begun to doze as they finished speaking and Link couldn’t stand to wake him. He couldn’t imagine how powerless it must feel to sit up there with half his people fleeing, the rest in the shadow of looming danger with no solution in sight—but not anymore. Link would knock that bird out of the sky before another family deemed it too dangerous in Rito Village to stay.

He took to walking. He was a little embarrassed to stick his head in doorways to ask for a little info, but it seemed most roosts he passed were empty. The roosts sat open and abandoned, some stripped of any belongings, others with hammocks still hanging in the windows and books left on the shelves, anything deemed unnecessary left to the potential aerial fire. With locals so sparse, Link decided maybe laying down some basic needs would be more useful for the moment—find a substantial place to stay and some new clothes, because if Malon said it was only going to be getting colder a too-big doublet and oversized gloves weren’t going to be doing him anymore good. Molli had dragged him past shopfronts, he remembered that much, and now it seemed those storefront owners might be the only ones left in town. He rounded a corner to a new wooded stairwell—the village felt far smaller than it should be, and while that disorienting feeling was fading, the simplicity of the walkways still left him feeling far more confusing than he likely should have been.

He found one roosts to be occupied, mostly through the ball of pink feathers waving desperately at him from the doorframe.

“Champion’s descendent!” Molli shrieked, half out of the doorway and waving furiously with the wing not held tight by another Rito. “Champion’s descendent—did you really come to stop the bird? That’s so cool! My daddy—”

The Rito woman, pink and tall with fine posture—her mother perhaps? —pulled Molli back into the roost, her touch gentle and firm.

“I apologize, sir. She can be easily excitable. Please, don’t mind us.” Molli poked her head between the woman’s legs.

“That’s the Hylian Elder Kaneli was talking to.” She whispered. “He said the Hylian was a Champion’s descendent—”

“You don’t even know what that means.” Another Rito called from behind the two of them; a child around Molli’s age with grey and white markings. He weaseled his way into the doorframe, squashed against a wood panel.

“It means he’s somebody’s kid, _duh_.” Molli said.

“But—"

“Both of you, back inside, please.” The children slunk back from the doorway, both whispering with growing intensity on the exact nature of the word ‘Champion’.

“They’re more used to seeing people leave than enter right now. We’re all desperate for a little positive change. I’m Saki—forgive her eavesdropping, sweet little devil, but I take it you’re the important someone Molli’s been babbling on about?”

_‘I’d be hard-pressed to phrase it that way.’_ Link signed. He could see the two kids over her shoulder, completely engrossed in their debate _. ‘My name’s Link. It’s a pleasure to meet all of you.’_ Saki smiled at that.

“Would you like to come in? I’ve almost finished preparing lunch, and the cook down at the Swallow’s Roost left a few days ago, so I guarantee it’ll be much better than anything you’ll find at the inn.” The children looked towards them and Molli grinned wide enough to hurt when Link agreed. The apples and dried meats he’d shared with Malon had been nice, but definitely not filling.

“Have you found a place to stay? I’m sure you’ll have your choice of any room you’d like down at the Swallow’s Roost.”

_‘I’m planning to head there soon. Haven’t spent much time looking around yet.’_

Saki nodded. The roost was large, a one room home with wide, ceiling tall windows, and three sturdy hammocks with one that seemed quickly strung up.

“This is my son, Tulin,” Saki said as she knelt beside a cooking pot, the haphazardly scattered ingredients suggesting some ‘help’ in the kitchen from small feathers, and poured cream into whatever mushroom soup she had been working on. “and Molli is a family friend. She has been having an… extended sleepover with us for a while.”

Tulin stuck out a wing to Link as Molli settled beside Saki in front of the fire.

“Good day!” His handshake was surprisingly firm for someone so small.

_‘Good day to you, too.’_ Link said, and Tulin smiled up at him.

“Good response! ‘Great kids are great greeters—' That's what my dad always says!’

_‘Sounds like a smart man.’_

“The smartest!”

Saki called for bowls and the two little ones bolted for plate ware. It struck Link as strange to see kids be so quick—practically excited—to follow an adult’s orders, but then again, he thought, any excuse to run around the house would be a good excuse for him if he spent every day stuck on the ground and under hounding eyes. Forget just Molli, practically everybody in town must be easily excitable right now.

There was the simplest of silences as the sunshroom broth went from dark red to pink as Saki stirred in the cream, and as soon as she finished ladling it into bowls the noise was on again. Tulin and Molli jumped over each other in conversation, each wanting to be the dominating voice while Saki calmly mediated, and Link leaned back and enjoyed the happy chatter and warm food.

“Can I go see Kheel?” Tulin says as soon as Molli finished, having gotten through his bowl much faster than her.

“Yeah,” Molli echoed, “can we go see Kheel?”

“Will Mrs. Amali be there?” Saki asked.

“Yes!”

“And if I speak to her tonight she’ll say she was there?”

_“Yes!”_

“As long are you’re home in an hour— Mrs. Amali doesn’t need even more kiddies in that roost.” Tulin gently bumped his head against hers and Saki smiled. She waved them off and watched them till they were long past the door, both pushing the other behind to take the lead down the stairs, clamoring thanks behind them. The almost silence of before shifted into a heavy, blanketing one and Saki gathered up their plate wear.

“You have to figure out how much slack to give them.” Saki said softly as she glanced back to the doorway. “You want to hold tight with all of this horribleness around, but if you do then you give them a reason to try and poke around.” She sighed and the poised, collected motherly air around her dropped into exhaustion. “Forgive my intrusion, but Molli talked about your meeting with the Elder and… that thing on your hip—it can really let you take down Vah Medoh?”

_‘It’s not that simple.’_

“But you can help, can’t you? All these warriors think their invincible; Harth’s too injured to take care of Molli, and Teba…”

_‘You know Teba? I was hoping to speak with him.’_

“He’s my husband, and he’s an idiot. I’ve told him with each new plan that this daydream of somehow knocking that thing out of the sky is ridiculous, and now we have an injured man—injured friend—and he’s still out there thinking he can do this.” Saki’s voice grew tighter with each word, and finally she stood to work out the tension. “I haven’t seen him in a week. He just camps out in the flight range as if there isn’t a family back here missing him.”

“The flight range is a place where Rito train for aerial combat,” Saki said at Link’s questioning face, stopping his half-raised hands. “right in Dronco’s Pass at the base of Hebra Mountain. It’s a good five or six miles walk from the village, but not far at all as the crow flies—best way to achieve that is from Revali’s landing, but you’re rather missing in the wings department. I don’t think that would be an option for you.”

_‘I’m at least decently equipped for flight.’_ Link signed, and Saki sighed.

“If you feel confident enough, I won’t stop you…just, if you are going to see my husband, remind him he has a family back here, alright? One that misses him terribly.” Link nodded. Hesitantly, he stood, took hold of her wing and squeezed it softly. She lowered her eyes to their hands for a moment before turning back to the cooking pot.

“I should get to work, I suppose. Nobody else around to do the cleaning. Stay safe, Champion’s descendent. I can’t bear to see another person lost to that Beast’s firepower.”

\---

It felt like life was on his side for once after Link changed into the clothes he bought from the Brazen Beak. The prize had been ridiculously high, likely twitched up for a new traveler in town who had to buy them, but the constant warm of the Rito downy and properly fitting gloves where undoubtedly worth the rupees. He could easily move his fingers. _He could easily move his fingers_ with no extra leather and too-big fingertips in the way. And besides, the headdress was pretty—seeing his reflection in window panes was enough to make him smile.

Which left the next order of business; tracking down Teba and both talking him into helping Link take down Vah Medoh and shaming his for his familial decisions. Counteracting actions, but Link was sure he’d make it work. He finished off a piece of nutcake, courtesy of a sweet-tempered store owner named Misa who was trying to talk him into buying some of her butter. He did end up buying it—he had no need of it, but there was very few people in town coming through her shop doors right now, and she deserved at least some business today. Besides, he’d been awfully curious to see if the nutcake had birdseed in it. It did, which managed to brighten this so far rather exhausting day significantly, and Link was more than a little disappointed when Misa refused to share her recipe.

So, all in all, spirits were high when he finished his winding hike up the spiral of stairs to the highest point in Rito village, even a story taller than the Elder’s roost. Revali’s landing was simple—the sign at the front fence dubbed it as a ‘a memorial for the Rito Champion, Revali’, but the wood platform and basic, white paint job left it looking no different than the rest of the flight landing’s Link had walked past so far. It was likely an unfair comparison, but the intricate beauty of Mipha’s stone memorial made the landing look rather sad. Still, it was a straight shot to the flight range, and that was what was truly important.

A gust of wind knocked the sign against its fence post, and the clacking of the wood on wood and the inpatient howl of the wind were the only sounds up this high. Link imagined, with what little knowledge he had of winds and flight, that with a platform so high and so windy, keeping control of yourself in the air had to be difficult. Link pulled his hair back tighter—the wind was already beginning to wrestle his hair from its tie. He moved further out onto the landing and knelt down to open up his paraglider. The wind kept catching the fabric, trying to rip it from his hands, and one particularly strong gust had him jerking his arms back so fast to keep control that the wood frame knocked him in the face and—

_Link can still taste last night’s bitterness on his tongue, faded throughout the morning but still refusing to leave. He would be the first to admit he is far from skilled with a bow—swordsmanship comes easily to him, the balance and shift of weight, and with practice over the years it grew into a dangerously beautiful art, precise and strong in his hands. Archery, however, has always proved to be a struggle, perhaps neglected over those years over in the training grounds, but that hadn’t proved to be a problem most of the time. Until last night, when a simple attempt to clear his head at the flight range shifted into a night spent struggling with a bowstring with the ‘famed archer of the Rito’ –bullshit—lounging by the fire and taking great pleasure in watching Link fail._

_Link refuses to say anything Revali could say or do to him would be anything close to humiliating, but damn if the feeling of his eyes on Link’s back wasn’t embarrassing. Revali’s elegance was undeniable, but his fat, pompous tongue was anything but._

_Link had set off on the miles long hike just as the sun was beginning to wake up and was able to spend a few hours attempting to alter his form or find some flaw to fix at the flight range while still returning with morning still present. It’s amazing, he thinks to himself, vitriol only barely leaching into the words, how much more productive you can be with a little peace and quiet. He leans back on his hands, feet dangling off the edge of the tallest landing platform. It’s always quieter up here than on the other platforms, which Link doesn’t mind at all, and when the wind dies down, like it has this morning, leaving the air still enough to catch in your hands, you can see Tabantha stretch on. Every roost and store front, the stable in the distance, tall, arching stones, and in the distance, Hebra, glowing silver in the morning sunlight. Link likes heights, likes how small they make you feel, how enormous they make the world around you look instead. Link would love to scale the stone that continues up above the wood walkways and landing platforms, loves the thought of standing on the edge and looking out, and out, and out._

_A dark shadow coats the platform, painting over the sun above—Vah Medoh, making her morning rounds. She is just as beautiful as Vah Ruta, but through her own special gracefulness, not anything like Ruta’s towering power. The snow still dusting Link’s hair and eyelashes from the icy breath of the flight range suddenly blows up and away, carried by a gust of wind that whips through the air, shattering the mornings stillness._

_The wind, the swallowing, destructive, yet controlled creature that it is, disperses out into the air around it, leaving a perfectly postured, thoroughly unwanted Rito standing beside Link, not a feather out of place despite the rat’s nest that wind has made of Link’s hair, gracefully poised—Link doesn’t think he saw Revali even flap his wings as he had followed the winds up into the air and gently to the ground. Wonderful. Exactly what Link needs in his pleasant, undisturbed morning._

_“Impressive, I know.” Revali says, and while he keeps his head jutted straight Link can tell he’s waiting for some reaction, as if Link would suddenly offer a round of applause or some shit. That’s rude, Link chastises himself. He had no problem being rude yesterday, Link thinks back, and Revali, refusing to be taken aback by the lack of any acknowledgement, hurries on._

_“Very few can achieve true mastery of the sky.” Link picks himself up off the ground before Revali does something ridiculous like lean down to Link’s eyelevel like he was some child. Not that it will stop Revali from looking down at him; he is a good head taller, and it works wonders for patronizing stares. “Did you know a Rito can only rely on the winds around them? We cannot send ourselves up into the sky. Yet I have made an updraft that allows me to soar. It’s quite the masterpiece of aerial techniques, even among the Rito.”_

_“With proper utilization of my superior skills I see no reason why we couldn’t easily dispense with Ganon.” Link bites back a groan. He knows immediately what comes after statements like this, and his morning has been too lovely, too productive to put up with it. He is not listening to some petty argument about who deserves what and why. He turns heel and walks away before Revali can even finish his next sentence._

_“Are you that self-absorbed that you cannot handle a moment of discourse? Unsurprising.”_

_‘I’m not taking any bait, Revali. Go eat some fletching and bother someone else.’_

_“Petty insults from a man who can’t even stand firm without hiding behind a title.” Link turns just enough for the damn fucking bird to see his hands._

_‘Do you ever shut up?’_

_“We could always settle this one on one—oh, I know! How about—”_

_‘I’d be better off with a training dummy if I wanted to get something out of sparing with you.’ Link signs, and before Revali can splutter out a reply he is gone, storming down the wood stairs, bitterness once again coating his mouth and his morning sagging under its weight._

As soon as Link was able to snap his glider closed, the wind died completely. He can taste anger and pettiness and clear, clean bitterness as strong as liquor. Mipha said he was _fond_ of the place. Sure, the view was pretty and village was nice, but he’d be slow to choose it as a second home with someone like that around every corner. With the wind down to nothing Link stood and opened up the paraglider again, making a smooth jump and smoother sailing, down from the bitter chill of Rito Village to the freezing cold of the flight range below it.

\---

The flight range is smaller than Link expected and then it isn’t, because somehow every snowflake, every paint drop, every splinter is there in his head. Half known ideas dripped from the wind, seeped through windows, and without even taking hold of the ladder rungs he knew with no room for doubt that he knew this place. The certainty was overwhelming.

The ever present wind pushing up from the cavern below the range stung his eyes, and inside wasn’t much warmer, any comfort sacrificed for utility—bows hung from the walls, some labeled with their owner’s names, others open for practice from anyone, small enough for children or large enough for the broadest Rito. Longbows and recurve were most common out of all of them, but some self bows stood out, the wood intricately carved and brightly painted. All were safely unstrung—he hadn’t known you were supposed to unstring your bow, much to Revali’s astonishment, whose growing concern for Link’s bow care lead to an extremely tedious lecture that proved to lengthen Link’s bow’s lifespan considerably—and just outside the doorway in the target range, past the jars of bear’s grease and stringers sat a white Rito pressing wax into his bow string.

“Yeah?” He called out, keeping his focus on his bow. When no vocal reply came he twisted around and his already dark face tightened.

“I don’t know you, and I’m actually pretty busy here. You should probably go.” He kept a hard stare, waiting for Link to turn on his heels and go back the way he came, and after a moment of stillness and silence he sighed and turned to face Link fully. “Do you need something? I’m busy here.”

_‘You’re Teba, right? I’m Link. I can help you out here.’_

“Listen—who, who sent you out here, kid? The Elder, or my wife, or…?”

_‘Both.’_

“Wonderful. Look, you strike me as an alright guy, but let’s get one thing clear: I’m not going anywhere. As a Rito warrior, I can’t stop while my people are in danger. You wouldn’t get that.”

Link bristled at that and bit back the snide comment twitching in his head that Teba had a village full of lives to look after, not a country’s, not four territories and everyone in between, but the poor guy looked like he hadn’t slept in a week and Link was above arguing with a father frightened for his son’s future.

“There’s only one way I’m going back to the village, and that’s after Vah Medoh had crashed down from the damn sky.

_‘It’s like I said. I’m here to help.’_

“With the bird? Some random Hylian wants to help bring that thing down. I don’t buy it—”

_'I calmed Vah Ruta to the east. I know what I’m doing—you can’t interact with the Beast’s technology, and I can. I’m here to help, and you need it.’_

“You can board the Beast successfully?” Teba stood, not as tall as his wife but still towering a good foot over Link’s head. “Fine. If you really want to do this I won’t talk you off the edge.” He stood, leaving the wax abandoned on the flood, are slung his bow onto his back. “Can you actually use that bow on your back? —take no offense, kid, but you’re awfully scrawny, and I can’t have a weak marksman up in the air with me.”

_‘I’m a good enough shot.’_ Link signed, but Teba didn’t hide his disbelief. Fine.

Before giving him time to let out another word Link drew his soldier’s bow, stepped back, and dropped off the edge of the breezeway. Teba said he’d be shooting in the air, right? Teba yelled out after him and Link let out a breath, refusing the air ripping at his skin and pulling at his insides distract him and pointed at the closest target—breath in, breathe out; let the fletching brush by— _“You’re thinking about it too much and it’s messing up your grip; just focus on your breathing and the target.” Revali is saying, and his face is far too close to Link’s cheek to be ignorable, but the words are solid. “The world is real but not a distraction. In and out, feel the fletching, reload”—_ Link hit a fifth target before the ground became too close for comfort, and with a snap of the paraglider he was up and back on the breezeway, heart pounding and head slowly focusing out on the world again instead of honing in.

“That?” Teba said. “That was very stupid.”

_‘I told you I was a good shot.’_ Teba frowned and didn’t bother with a reply, just turned back into the flight range’s main building.

“The plan,” He explained, “is technically simple.” Which of course, meant it wasn’t. Returning to the village also should have been technically simple, with a perfectly good path stretching back to the mouth of the bridges, but Teba seemed increasingly worried about wasting daylight, even if it was barely twenty past noon.

“It’s been getting darker sooner, and I’m not going up there if I don’t have perfect visibility.” Teba said as he helped hoist Link onto his back, and with his hands buried in Teba’s feather’s Link was beginning to wonder if he was making a habit of climbing onto half-stranger’s backs.

 “Medoh is surrounded by a force field that prevents entry and laser cannons that keep it raised. They’ve got enormous firepower to stop anyone from getting too close. Take out the cannons, open the field, board…” Teba sighed. His voice was almost lost in the wind. Did Rito have stronger ears to be able to hear with so much movement around them? “But I can’t find anything that successfully breaks through a cannon. No shock arrows, fire arrows, bomb arrows, nothing. If I can’t find a way to blow those damn things up there’s no point even going up.

“So, my idea is, Champion Revali made this thing, right?”

_Technically he only piloted it_ , Link wanted to correct, but his hands were holding tight and Teba likely didn’t care Vah Medoh and the rest of the Divine Beasts were centuries older than he could ever imagine. Teba left the statement hanging as he lurched them higher up to touch down on one of the tallest of RIto Village’s landings, passing up two closer platforms.

“More private.” Teba said, answering a question Link hadn’t asked. “So, Revali made Vah Medoh, so he would have known everything about it—including its weaknesses.” He was already walking, dumping Link off his back and onto the floor. Link didn’t know him enough to see if Teba’s stiff, constant movement was a sign of anxiety or simply his nature, but Link had to pick up pace to match his gait. Teba took turns Link hadn’t noticed before, shifted along the thin walkways between roosts, pulling him along to an area of the village Link hadn’t realized he’d passed by. The wood here had patched and replaced in places, leaving walkways that resembled quilts more than streets, old discolored wood beside fresh pine, red wood, unvarnished planks still rough with dried drops of sap. The roosts were unevenly spaced—a sign some were gone, two or three missing homes in a row leaving a gaping view of the sheer drop into Lake Totori that the rest of the village’s buildings usually censored. Teba moved towards one of the better off roosts, it’s paint freshly repainted and it’s door bright and flashy, with wide, clear glass, and took hold of the latch holding it closed.

“Elder Benko—the Rito in charge at the time of the Calamity—wanted a way to enshrine what the Rito had been before it hit, remember everything destroyed, so on, so on, very sentimental. Supposedly the Elder and Champion Revali were very close, so when Revali’s roost survived the rest of the village’s destruction they locked it up **.** All the kids walk by and see it—I find the idea rather pointless, if I’m being honest, but I’ve taken my son up here a few times… Anyways, all of Revali’s old belongings are in there, so some sort of information on Medoh must be as well.”

_‘So we’re breaking into a museum.’_

“If you don’t want to help you can leave.”

_‘Not judging! Just… surprised.’_ Teba scoffed and pushed the door open, the latch no-so-subtlety snapped off in his hand. If Teba wanted the lock picked he just could have asked—Link’s hands weren’t completely useless.

The roost was surprisingly small—smaller than Saki’s and the other roosts Link had stuck his head into, and cluttered to all hell. The hearth was covered in dishes, still full of ashes, hammock overflowing with quilts, a half-opened jar of bear’s grease dried up in a corner. The desk, its wooden back curved to fit comfortably against the wall, spilled over with papers, stacks of books pushed into both designated shelfs or left piled on corners, some drawers so filled they couldn’t quite close.

_‘You’d think they’d clean it up a bit.’_ Link signed and Teba shrugged as he pulled the desk’s chair back to start sorting through the paperwork littering the desk. The books had been dusted recently, most covers free of time’s grimy texture, but the bindings were dangerously loose, thread eaten away by the insects that still managed to sneak inside, and the covers were all near grey or yellow, any color stripped by the sunlight pouring through the wide windows. The pages didn’t seem any better off, but the ink, hidden away from light, was still bright enough to read. Books of complex areal theory, weather magic littered with dogears on pages on wind currents, advanced archery journals with notes scrawled in the margins critiquing ideas or building upon them—a romance novel with curled pages from use. Pushed deep back in one of the shelves was a thin, blue book held shut with a leather tie. No title, no author, and when he opened it the writing was different that the professional lettering in most books, tight and uneven across the lines.

_"I won another archery competition today. As one would expect, the village can't stop talking about my winning streak—”_

Link snapped the dairy closed. That was none of his business. Did Revali talk about him in there? Link almost opened it again—just a peek, just a quick look—but placed it down on the desked, tied it closed, and took a step back. None of his business. The sun spilled down on the desk at this angle, and Link carefully pushed the diary to the far back of the shelf where the sun had no chance of stripping it of its color.

He knelt down to the desk drawers. Teba had slid one out of the desk entirely to have a better look of its contents, papers scattered around him. When Link pulled open the lowest drawer it shifted awkwardly, like it was too heavy for the drawer slides on its sides. Link pulled harder and the drawer popped out entirely. It was empty, save for a broken bow stringer and blank papers—and a crack close to the wall of the drawer that split under the bottom wood, leaving a hole big enough for a finger to fit through. The false bottom popped off with a sharp tug. Stacks of letters, all neatly tied up in different color twine, strange arrow heads of all shapes and sizes, some barely even recognizable as arrow heads if not for the labels attached, and one fully developed arrow that felt perfectly balanced in Link’s hand.

_“Model transfers well,”_ one letter read, _“but the arrow head is far too heavy to be actually used. Unpractical. You can do better—Revali”_

_“Have you ever shot a bow? You can’t successfully fire air. Far too light—Robbie, I swear you aren’t even listening to me—Revali”_

_“Opening mechanism? Wonderful idea. Helped the weight problem, finally. I had a few ideas on attachable arrow heads; would that be faster to produce than already assembled ancient arrows? I sketched some ideas below—Revali”_

_“Took the arrows out monster hunting. This is practically a weapon of mass destruction. Truly impressive, Robbie. I’m doing some final fine tuning; could you send more? Twenty would be fine enough. Just to be sure other archers are as compatible with them as I am. Thanks in advance—Revali”_

The letters weren’t dated, and it bothered Link more than it should have. The damn light in this room was overwhelming, and it was beginning to give him a headache. Could Vah Medoh please find the time to fly over here and blot out the sun for a while? Link tied the stack back together, and the old paper seemed to shine in the light. Link turned to look at the room. The Rito really hadn’t touched a thing, had they? Dusted a little, filled up the rotting wood in the floor, but left the dirty dishes still waiting by the extinguished fire to be cleaned. The letters in his hands seemed to burn.

  _He leans heavily against the Princess’ shoulder, and her voice sends nails past Link’s eyes into his head, red, hot, and throbbing._

_“Revali? Oh, Revali, thank goodness!” She says, her shoulder knocking the side of his head as she waves him down. Link groans- as if the whole thing couldn’t get any worse. She hauls him inside the open doorway of Revali’s roost, past its rather disgruntled looking owner._

_“I’m sorry- it’s just that, we were hiking near Warbler’s Nest, and Link started_ _vomiting, and now he says his head is pounding, and he can hardly walk straight_ - _”_

_“Your Majesty, please,” Revali says, as she flops Link down onto his hammock- behavior Revali likely wouldn’t tolerate from anyone but her. The two had taken an early, easy liking to each other, and it never ceased to amaze. “Slow down.”_

_She begins again, taking careful beats this time, and Link has never wanted to disappear so badly. Almost throwing up on the Princess had been bad enough, being dragged into town like a child even worse, and now this- Goddesses save him. It doesn’t help that he has never wanted curtains so desperately. The wide, airy windows of Revali’s one room home are, unfortunately, wonderful at letting in light, and the early afternoon sun burns into Link’s skull. He pulls a pillow over his head and tries to block out their voices._

_“When did you last eat?” Revali calls over to Link._

_“Yesterday at lunch.” Zelda answers for him. She looks a little like a pack mule covered in all his gear, bless her. Revali takes Link’s waterskin from her- still full. He lets out a sound that sounds suspiciously like a covered laugh._

_“He’s fine. Probably just a bad bout of altitude sickness.” He says. Zelda blinks._

_“Are you sure?”_

_“Of course. We see it in all the time in Hylians- he isn’t used to the thin air, that’s all.” Revali says. “He just needs some time to acclimate. With a little rest and water he should be fine. As long as he’s got someone to keep an eye on him he’ll just back in hours. Maybe a day.”_

_“You would do that?” Zelda asks, and Revali realizes just a moment too late the Princess’ misunderstanding. He can’t turn her down; he cares too much for her opinion of him for that._

_“Of course, Princess. Anything for you.” He chokes out._

_“And you really think that’s all it is-”_

_“Yes, your Majesty. Now, shoo fly,” Revali says, not unkindly. Zelda bites her lip and looks between the two of them, body stiff and face white. Link and Revali both know the Princess’ fear of illness well enough- disease had taken her mother from her, and ever since the slightest sniffle was enough to send Zelda into a panic. One winter, when Urbosa visited the castle to discuss a trade agreement, she caught something nasty in her lungs from the wet, cold air. Zelda spent days at her side, terrified and near delirious. Only Mipha’s gentle words could pry her away from Urbosa’s room and begin to ease the fear from her brow._

_Revali steers Zelda towards the door, ever the gentleman, and with a reluctant glance she steps out. “I’ll take good care of him.”_

_She’s but a few yards away when Revali’s generous air drops. He turns and faces the bed, back ramrod straight, and Link wonders if Revali cultivated his ability of standing like a cocky ass or it just came to him naturally._

_“I cannot believe you went and gave yourself altitude sickness.” Revali says. Link wishes with all his heart that for once in his life, Revali would just_ shut up.

“ _Not eating up here? Not drinking? Are you brainless? And you call yourself an hero,_ really. _” Link rolls over just enough to flip him off._

_"Sit up.”_

_When Link doesn’t comply fast enough Revali yanks the pillow from his head, tossing it at the foot of the hammock, and thrusts Link’s waterskin at him._

_"The more you drink the faster you’ll feel better. You can sleep off the migraine afterwards.” Link begrudgingly takes the waterskin. For a few blissful moments Revali is silent. He walks off to some corner of the room, and the only noise is the soft sound of clinking ceramic. Link begrudgingly nurses his waterskin and stares at the red pattern on Revali’s yellow blanket, eyes glazed with pain. Revali isn’t really_ wrong _\- waltzing around hungry and dehydrated a good 8,000 feet above sea level was rather stupid- but he loathes to admit it. He should be able to suffer his nausea with pride, damn it._

_"Drink this.” Revali says right beside him, and the sudden, painful volume of his voice makes Link jump. Revali holds out a cup of tea, thin but not colorless, the leaves floating unstrained on top._

_“Go on,” His voice is strangely soft. “I’m not going to poison you.” The tea smells odd, a clash of scents that don’t belong together._

_“Mint, ginger, and pine needles.” Revali says as he kneels at the basket beside his bedside table. He begins pulling out quilts and tossing them at the hammock. “It will taste strange, but help with the nausea.”_

_Link takes a sip—Revali’s right. It’s bitter and sour with an overwhelming taste of peppermint. Weird, but not horrible. Drinkable._

_“Finish that, and then you can go to sleep.” Revali says, and Link thinks for a moment that Revali’s voice actually sounds nice when it isn’t dripping with negativity. Almost pleasant._

_Revali gives Link a once over glance, then, satisfied with his handiwork, turns for the door. He’s barely outside the doorway when he turns over his shoulder._

_“If you vomit in my bed, I guarantee you I will make sure you spend the rest of your stay sleeping on the inn’s floor.” He calls, before walking out into the winding staircase of Rito Village._

_The pleasantness is gone._

“Kid? Hey, kid?” Link jumped as Teba’s voice and glanced down at the letters in his hands, now crumbled in his tight grip. He quickly let go and tried to smooth them out best he could.

“You okay, kid?”

_‘Yeah, just got a little distracted.’_ Teba looked him up and down, still not quite convinced, but dropped the topic anyways.

“Found anything good in those?” Teba asked as he held a hand out for the letters. The thought of handing them over left a tight, panicked knot in Link’s throat. He pulled them into his lap.

_‘Revali was writing to some weapon maker about a kind of arrowhead. He called it a weapon of mass destruction.’_

“Mass destruction. Good start.” Teba turned to the desk. “Think he hid other things in here?”

Link shrugged, and while Teba began poking and prodding every inch of wood, Link stood and moved quietly to the pile of blankets on the hammock. There, at the very bottom, was an obnoxiously yellow blanket with bright red designs, some resembling foxes and elk, others mushrooms and berry bushes. It smelled like dust and time, a horrible, horrible smell, and it hurt to put it down. Link didn’t want to be in this roost anymore. Link wanted to get as far away as possible, until his skin stopped prickling and his head stopped hurting and scraps of paper stopped feeling as heavy as the moon in his hands.

“We’ve got something!” Teba yelled, before remembering they were breaking the law and whispering, “I found something!”

The something was a false panel on the side of the desk, and inside the cavity behind it was a bundle of arrows with the strangest arrowhead Link had ever seen. It was circular, like a knuckle sized hinge, with a long piece of not-metal and not-stone folded over. Link recognized the Sheikah technology immediately. He reached past Teba and grabbed one—right where the arrow would be knocked a line of not-fabric string attached to a leaver. Link pulled; the hinge snapped open and a humming blue arrowhead took its place.

“Looks like a potential weapon of mass destruction to me.” Teba said. Link nodded. That most certainly did.

\---

_‘I really think I’m starting to make a habit of climbing onto people’s back.’_ Link signed as Teba checked the leather buckle of his quiver. Riding shoulders seemed to be the only way to get him up to Vah Medoh unless they found some wonderful flying machine to get them up to the ancient flying machine, and Teba seemed much less comfortable with a long-term ride than Sidon had.

“Is that a problem?” Teba said, voice flat.

_‘…It was a joke.’_

“Not a very good one.” Teba straightened. Vah Medoh drifted right above them, painting the landing platform with shadow. “Why do this? Why risk your life to bring down Vah Medoh when it’s not your problem?”

For a moment Link considered the long answer, considered telling Teba just how big of a picture Teba was involving himself in by flying up to that Divine Beast a second time. Would it help to know he was flying up there to save the world alongside his village of roosts, or would it weight him down, add more weight on the back of his wings as he carried Link up into the clouds?

_‘For Rito Village.’_ Link said finally, and Teba rolled his eyes.

“It’s not like you’ll get any key to the village for this, you know.” He said.

_‘No—but the kids here deserve to live safely at home. I’m content knowing that’s that.’_

“Fine. Just no changing your mind when you get up there and see Medoh up close.” Link nodded, and at Teba’s okay, hoisted himself onto his back.

The assent is quiet, mostly because the higher they climbed the harsher the winds became, stealing any words from the air. Each meter higher exposed Vah Medoh’s strange beauty a little more, the stone wings of the Beast stretching 200 feet, each curve carefully carved and beautiful. The sight of it all didn’t last long; as soon as Link and Teba grew close enough to see the pink glow pulsing from the Beast she screeched, the scream so loud Teba flinched, dropping them down a few feet, and a thick cloud of light swallowed Vah Medo up.

“The force field.” Teba needlessly explained. “You still with me, kid?” Link squeezed his shoulder. “Fine. I’m going to drop you. Please don’t go falling to your death when my back is turned.”

And then the wind was screaming in Link’s ears and stabbing at his face, pulling the skin and ripping the hair from his head, so cold it burned. When the paraglider opened it caught the wind like an old friend and jerked on his arms so hard Link felt his shoulder pop. He could see two of the cannons, the other two hidden on the far wind, and steered towards the first as best he could against the winds. Teba gestured to himself and waved off towards the other wing, and Link risked letting go of one of the glider’s handles just long enough for a quick salute. That left these two for him. Shoot something and don’t get shot. Easy enough.

Except the wind was a bastard. It whipped away the first arrow Link shot, taking hold and flinging it away with obnoxious ease. Link maneuvered closer, in range of the cannon but hopefully close enough to fight against the wind. He altered his shot, aiming above and rightward in hopes the wind snatches it down into the right place—it did, sailing the arrow into the right side of the cannon, just meters away from the center, and the arrow exploded in a wave of blue, hissing as it shattered the stone side and sent rubble flying. Link heard a whoop carried in the wind from the far side of the Beast. So Teba had found the arrows just as effective.

Link held his position, arms already aching from fighting the wind. Still, he slowly let go with one hand, slid his elbow up around the handle, and let himself drop. The paraglider was a distraction he refused to acknowledge as he fired, this time striking the cannon’s head and sending it flying in chunks against a bright blue backdrop. He slid the paraglider back up into his hand and let it catch the wind. Settled back on, he turned for the second, larger canon.

It took the first arrow with great force, sending a wicked crack down the whole body of the cannon, but the second was caught by the wind again, then the third. Link didn’t have the time or the arrows to be estimating what would fall where. He forced himself closer, closer, until the wind would have no control over his shot. The cannon seemed to feel the same as it charged up, blinking red claiming its target as Link dropped and readied his bow. The arrow nocked perfectly, string catching beautifully one his fingers—three things happened at one. A flash of blue met in time with a flash of red and white, while an arm wrapped around him and shoved him out of the way of the high-pitched squeal of a shot fired.

The light faded into the clouds and Link looked up at Teba, paraglider still dangling on his arm, bow still in his hand, with Teba’s wing wrapped awkwardly around him while he treaded air, wing moving furiously to hold the extra weight. The cannon was gone, nothing left but a concave on Vah Medoh’s now visible wing, but the sweet, meaty smell of burned skin still hung in the air.

“What the _hell_ was that.” Teba hissed, and Link grappled with the paraglider to get himself out of the Rito’s grip. “That was the stupidest damn thing I’ve ever seen. Just sitting there with a target on your chest? Did you intend to come up here and get shot out of the damn sky?”

Link said nothing. He couldn’t, not with two hands clutching onto wood handles above hand.

“I’ve half a mind to drag you back down and make sure you never get on that thing if you’re so keen to let this damn bird rip you apart.” Teba sighed, looking out at Vah Medoh’s outstretched wings. “But we need to bring it down. If you say you can do it, I’ll believe you.” His wings stuttered as his balance shifted too far to one side—an attempt to keep the wind from piercing into the black and red burn across most of his leg, feathers charred into nothing.

“It looks like I got hit pretty bad back there.” He said. Link’s heart plummeted to his intestines. Shit, _shit_ , he could smell it, could see the quills of feathers where the vane had burned away; burns that he had put there.

“It’s okay,” Teba said, voice softer than Link had ever heard it. “I just need to get back to the flight range. You head down to Medoh—good luck, kid. It’s all you from here.” He shifted his wings and began to turn back. Keeping his eyes on Teba’s white feathers and charred leg, Link started his drift down onto Vah Medoh’s becoming wings.

“Hey, Link!” Teba called out. He flashed Link what might have been his first smile, and a thumb’s up. “I believe in you.”

If he said anything else it was lost to the wind as Link felt stone beneath his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? An update? I'm not dead?!?
> 
> Hello! So. It's been a while-- but I also got a lot of stuff done in that while. I made the dean's list in my first semester at university, and started my own writing project that is at almost 100k words and has helped my confidence as a writer grow so much more. So thats nice!
> 
> Some of the ideas in this chapter are ideas that made me want to write this fanfic in the first place, so this was really exciting to write. It's my longest chapter, so hopefully that helps make up a little for the long (long, long) wait! i put all of the very, very little archery information i retained from working at a summer camp in here and i hope it impresses yall. also, if any of you guys are curious, i actually got the title for this from autumn tree by milo greene, both because it reminds me of botw but mostly because i listen to it on repeat over and over while im writing. it's all ive listened to this entire week lol
> 
> to everybody who commented on this unintentional hiatus-- thank you so, so much. those comments are what made me put down my personal project and pick this up again. yalls support means so much to me!
> 
> have a wonderful day! or night! and if you celebrate it, a happy christmas!


	8. Chapter 8

Vah Medoh was, unsurprisingly, cold, windy, and _high._ There was a stark difference between looking down at the ground from below a glider cloth or over a feathery shoulder and standing on the edge of unforgiving stone, leaning over, and seeing the whole damn world.

Link turned his eyes from the clouds below to Vah Medo’s stretching wings—greenery had taken to the stone, Hebra lichen that could stand the cold leaving a spongy green and red carpet over the stone. Pillars stood man length’s apart, and if they held up anything before, Link couldn’t remember. Pulsing in the center, glowing a muted orange under the growing layer of malice, was the main control unit, the control panel completely swallowed by red and black. Just looking at the panel’s jutting silhouette was enough to make Link’s head ache. Goal of the day—no fractured skulls.

' _Can we just get this over with?’_ He signed to the control unit. Nothing moved _. ‘We both know you’re waiting in there, so can we make this easier and you just try to kill me right now?’_ No malice dripped down and slid across the floor into murderous blobs, no shrieking abomination appeared, and Link sighed and dropped his hands. At least he tried.

He found an open hatch at the base of where the Beast’s carved back began to rise and take form, steady clean airflow floating up from it. It dropped two floors, and the highest story’s floor was a cracked mess. Rails ran wall to wall, holding up some pieces of the floor, but the rest was rubble on the story below. The windows lacing across the bottom’s floor cracked under the broken stones’ weight, filling the air with a soft wail as air pushed between shattered glass. Link gagged as soon as he stumbled out of the air stream into the stale air of the room. The smell of rot, hot, greasy, and corrosive, coated everything. Red soot hung in the air and eyes peered down from the ceiling, stalactites of malice dripping decay onto what was left of the floor.

A few arrows took care of the eyes—could they really _see_ him? Comprehend him? Could they report back to their pig master like a foul-smelling spy?—and the malice melted into the air, joining the soot. Link took a careful step onto one of the sturdier looking pieces of floor, partially suspended by the railings. It didn’t move. No creaking, no groaning. Still visible through the hazy air was the outline of a guidance stone; Link made his way across as delicately as he could.

He was forced to jump across railed stone three times, each one heart-stopping as he waited to be sure the floor was still steady after his landing. The guidance stone chirped softly while it dripped information down—a pair of windows let in blessed light behind it, flooding the room with new, needed air as Link pulled out some shards of cracked glass from the stone frame. He didn’t really mind the bitter cold against his face as he tried to lean out one without skewering himself. Vah Medoh’s beak began to stretch out just above, and Link figured if he could lean forward enough he might be able to stretch up and touch it. He shifted forwards, one piece of glass pushing too hard against his stomach for comfort, but the air felt good after breathing in all that evil shit, and he had room to lean a little farther, reach up a little higher.

_“Watch yourself—if you fall, I won’t catch you.” comes from behind him, sharp and nasally. Revali throws it over his shoulder as he moves alongside the Princess. Link leans back from the edge of Vah Medoh’s wing and holds back the impulse to flash up an unpleasant gesture, but the Princess is right there and he doesn’t need to give her another reason to turn her nose up at him. She and Revali had taken a smooth liking to each other almost as soon as they met, and Link isn’t jealous, couldn’t be, just found it prickly that she would rather spend her time with a self-centered bag of feathers than him. He just wanted to be able to take up his place behind her Majesty without disapproving and distaining looks being snuck over shoulders, but perhaps that was too much to ask—_

_\--only that’s not the only thought the words carry. There’s a hesitant joke, after it’s been decided that teamwork is more important than grudges if saving the world is going to become anything, passed over an eggshell friendship, and awkward laughter to go with it, because neither knows how far they can safely push._

_Vah Medoh’s stone is smooth but not groove-less, and with a little work Link can climb it, out past the rest of the Beast’s body to the tip of the beak, wind whipping his hair so hard it burns when it hits his skin and his eyes watering so hard he can barely see, even though that was his goal—because leaning over, feet only inches from air, Link is so tall he is nothing, swallowed up by the clouds with Hyrule stretching, truly stretching below. Revali is screaming at him, “I swear—get back here, I_ swear— _if you fall I will_ not _catch you!” and when Link finally does touch down on Medoh’s wings, Revali’s flared feathers are the funniest thing he’s ever seen. It doesn’t occur to him till later, once he’s done choking on laughter, adrenaline, and stupidity, that Revali might have been truly worried._

_He apologizes the next night. It’s awkward, and Revali insists it’s unnecessary, that he’s above it, never really cared, but feels good. When Link mentions dinner Revali scoffs at his choices._

_Tourist food.” He insists. “I know where to get the best nutcake in town, and it’s not going to be anywhere near that inn, I can promise you that.”_

_…The nutcakes do turn out to be pretty good._

_And then, later, many days of shared meals under the Flight Range's canopy below his belt, Revali is elbowing him softly. “Wake up. You’re going to fall, and I won’t catch you.” Link shifts, pressing his face further against Revali’s shoulder. Revali is practically holding him up as they sit on the barest edge of Medoh’s tail, feet dangling from the edge, the sky split around them, the lights of Rito Village like stars below them, the stars of the sky like city lights up above._

_It’s cold—cold usually means nothing on Medoh, not when it leeches into the very existence up here, but right now the cold around him is unbearable with Revali so warm next to him. His feathers tickle Link’s face as he elbows him again._

_“I’m bringing Vah Medoh down for the night. You should get inside, it’s freezing out here.” Link groans and Revali stands, stretching for a moment, before holding out a wing. Link’s grip is steady when he takes it._

Link’s weight on the window’s glass proved to be too much as it slices through his tunic and into his stomach, only a hairline cut but enough to stink bitterly. Link jerked back into the room. When he ran his glove under his tunic it came away bloody; just barely, but enough to make him feel like a true idiot leaning out over broken glass. He glanced out the window again and the swirling drop gave him pause.

_‘I won’t catch you.’_

The shift in tone, the change in thought, the different reasoning behind casual touches and calculated words—it settled in the base of his brain, unsure and unsteady. Fine. Okay. He stepped back against the guidance stone—that was right. He came over here for a reason. He flipped the new map around, trying to get as much as he could from what felt like a needlessly complicated map. He tapped the screen with two fingers and, sure enough, just as Vah Ruta had let out a rumbling call and shifted her stone mechanics to meet him, Vah Medo shrieked as she tilted, the floor groaning under the shifting pressure. As the stone shifted and slid a doorway swallowed up in pulsing malice came into view. One of the small glowing points on his map blinked somewhere behind it—a good place as any to start.

\---

Vah Medo’s insides are significantly easier to navigate than Vah Ruta’s, even with needing to maneuver through air vents and walking dangerously close to thousand-foot drops. The obstacles to the terminals were simple, clear and concise, sometimes only stretches of air that were easily bypassed by a little strategic gliding.

The Sheikah slate chirped as it passed over a terminal face, the railed gondola lift behind Link scrapping softly against the floor as it rocked; its white and blue paint had chipped over time and what was left grown over with orange lichen. As soon as the slate’s happy sound faded, the gate cutting off access to the rest of the rooms underside of Medoh’s wing slid open, exposing walls so thick with malice some spots seemed to be painted with it. There was far more malice on Medo than he had ever seen in Ruta; perhaps the moving water had prevented it from taking a stronger hold. Regardless, it was easy enough to clear it, to shatter the cursed skulls that sometimes force themselves out of the gunk, the bones brittle enough to crumble carelessly under his sword. A detached jaw strained for Link’s ankle, and it shattered harmlessly as he kicked it away.

The room spanned, mostly to make way for the mallet-like stone railed to the ceiling, held in place by grates and angled towards the cracking stone outcropping on the far wall—obvious enough. The grates were rusty, staining his hands as he forced them up, leaving red streaked across his tunic and cheek. He could only lift it halfway over the stone and sighed as he stepped back and let it slam down onto the ground with a hollow thud. Too short. He was too damn short for everything; shorter than Revali, shorter than half the Hylians he met, shorter than Mipha and she was ridiculously tiny for her age. Link took a step back, looked at the mechanism from as far back as he could walk, and groaned at his own stupidity. Magnesis. He’d had that stupid slate for how long now and he still couldn’t remember to use its basic functions?

The grates squealed as they rose, rust grinding as it slid upwards into the ceiling, and it hooked into place. Vah Medo reared back and titled with a quick double tap and the hanging stone slowly slid down against the wall—the crackled stone jutting out crumbled more as it was forced back. Broken floors, crumbling stone, rust and lichen; Medo wore the past hundred years boldly across her stone and Link wasn’t sure if Vah Ruta’s preserved curves and carvings were a fluke and the rest of the Beasts would be in a similar state of bad repair or if Medo was simply crumbling on her own. A gate dropped into the floor, exposing the fifth terminal inside. The dull, carved black stone of the terminal was cracked, malic pouring from the chips and dripping onto the floor. Link’s sword went through the eye hiding in the corner with little resistance, and the slate chirped regardless of the damage when Link passed it over the terminal. The stone flickered to blue the best it could, the color pixilated and unsure. It blurred unnaturally around the cracks.

The Sheikah slate buzzed, likely alerting him of the main control unit, but Link paid it no mind. He brushed his hand over a chipped section—it was painfully cold, and sharp as metal sheets. Moisture came away on his fingers, tacky and blue. It evaporated quickly, leaving his fingertips tingly and numb. Link stepped away and turned back for the entrance of the wing. Regardless of Sheikah stone liquids, his sword hand itched, already twitching at the thought of whatever was hiding up there. His heart struggled to decide if it should slow into a cool determination or flutter. He chose to ignore it.

The far side of the flat chest of Vah Medo, away from her main unit and columns, was quiet in a different way than the rest of the Beast. The wind was subdued here by the looming stone, free of shadows and marked with railings—an observation deck. Its view was no different than every edge of the Beast, but it was marked with subtle importance that Link could appreciate. He leaned against the railing, taking some weight off his aching feet. The sun wasn’t setting yet, but it was nearing the horizon, inching slowly towards night time, and Link really needed to keep going if he wanted to fight whatever Blight was up here before nightfall. He didn’t move. The Hebra mountains looked so pretty with the soon to be fading sunlight drifting over their peaks. With a sight like that the wind wasn’t so cold.

_The sunset over the sharp, snowy edges of Hebra’s mountain range is pink, a gentle blush fading into purple and blue-black ink, as Medoh flies lower than usual. The winds are gentler, the cold still biting but not vicious. The downy of Revali’s feathers are soft against Link’s arm—he can feel the heat of Revali’s wing against his side even through the thick, insulated fabric of his coat, and the pressure of Revali against him brings a contented calm Link rarely feels these days._

_“You know,” Revali says, head tilted up towards the sinking sun, “we could die doing this.”_

_‘That’s awfully morbid.’ Link signs. He doesn’t want to talk of death and dying—the twilight air is too sweet for that, and for one moment Link would like to leave behind all the overhanging gloom that seems to chase them everywhere these days._

_“But we could. And I don’t think I would mind.”_

_Link looks at him, alarmed, and Revali shakes his head, chooses new words._

_“I don’t want to die. I just, I think this is worth dying for. Don’t you?”_

_‘Of course.’ Link signs, but Reval doesn’t seem to be paying attention._

_“I love my people.” He says. “I would die for them. I love this kingdom, I love my friends, and—I…” Revali finally looks away from the peaks, and the dying sun leaves his feathers glowing. “Never mind. I should go. Make sure Medoh is keeping a consistent altitude.”_

_Link reaches out for feathers, reaches out to somehow hold Revali still enough to do something he’s not quite sure of yet, but all he’s gets is a handful of air and the stinging cold as Revali leaves him with the sun._

The memory left as softly and subtly as it came, but it was begging to be noticed. Link leaned his elbows on the railing, ran his hands down his face, and rested his chin in his palms. None of this makes any damn sense. He’d really appreciate if his brain would draw out a pretty timeline, nice and concise, so he could tell what exactly he was supposed to be feeling, if he should be angry when he thinks of feathers on his arms telling him about eye dominance as he tries to hit a target or be filled with bittersweet nostalgia. People had told him with Mipha—friend, fellow fighter, potential lover, everything he needed laid out before him, but his head was scattered and contradictory here, pulling at two different thoughts, and Link isn’t sure what he is going to say when he pulls a hopefully still living bird out of all that malice.

He looked out at the shifting colors of the sun. They gave him no answers. Finally, he stood up straight and turned his back to it. He didn’t want to fight that damn thing in the dark. He set his jaw and moved towards the winds, and somehow the air seemed stripped of its sound, silent in its movement. Vah Medo holding her breath. The orange glowing through the rolling red-purple mass was a steadying reminder. This Divine Beast was alive under Ganon’s influence, she was just waiting for him to remind her of it.

The malice hissed at him as he ran the Sheikah slate over the control panel. It hissed as it slithered off the glowing unit, hissed as it rose up against the wind and took form, swirling black-red-purple, the smell of rot and decay thrown through the air as Windblight took form; a clawed hand, a face hidden behind a curved stone mask—a blaster half the length of Link’s body and thick as a tree trunk. The Blight hunched over, squinting at the tiny creature below it, and screamed.

The first hit took Link by surprise because it was not a hit, just a gust of wind that looked harmless until it yanked him in and sucked the very breath from his lungs. Link scrambled back on unsteady legs, gasping. Okay. Not so harmless. The Blight brought up its arm, letting out pulses of light that Link didn’t doubt would fry him through and through if it hit him, but they were easy enough to sidestep.

‘Don’t get cocky,’ Link reminded himself as he drew his sword, ‘just because he seems easy now doesn’t mean you can’t end up with a fractured skull again.’ The main problem was the damn thing wouldn’t stay near the ground. It was content to hover twenty feet above him, taking lazy pot shots as if Link was simply a mild inconvenience. Link sheathed his sword and drew his bow. The ancient arrow sang as it slammed into Windblight’s eye, the flash of blue bright enough to leave spots on the edge of Link’s vision, and Blight squealed, clawing at the charred arrow shaft with its flesh hand, digging its own sharp claws into its eye; the arrow had blown chunks from its stone face, exposing malice flesh and dark blood. The arrow shaft snapped, half still embedded in the eye, and the Blight abandoned its attempt to claw it free to instead drag forth strange small things akin to small birds. Link had no name for them, never seen the stone spheres before, but they darted around him, never coming close until the Blight aimed its blaster.

The stones squealed, mechanical and grating, before sharing the fire between themselves, split the laser between the five of them, and fired.

Link ducked away from them as best he could, but the five easily moved into clear air to re-aim, and one hidden behind the control unit let out a successful shot, striking him across the back, ripping along the skin; the force of it threw Link back. Link wanted to scream at the floating Blight to get out of the damn air and fight him like an honest opponent, but instead it lets loose another flurry of attacks, this one slamming into his right side, maybe bruising some ribs with the force, definitely burning skin—he could smell it. Link stepped back, putting as much distance between him and the little things as he could, until he almost tripped over a lip in the stone and felt a rush of cold air shoot up his coat and across his back; an air vent, hidden under all the lichen. He flicked open his glider, and as soon as Windblight raised its blaster again he was up. Dropping down and slipping into the slowed headspace as his fingers gripped the bowstring was as easy and breathing; the arrow slammed into the mask and sent a chunk flying. The force threw the Blight to the ground, and in an instant Link was on it, dragging a quickly drawn sword up through its chest, letting out a spray of purple blood. The Blight grabbed hold of his tunic and flung him back. Link rolled, slamming his back into the corner of a column.

For a moment he couldn’t breathe, the air in his lungs ripped out from the force, from the too fast bend of his spine as his back curved against the corner, from the grate of burns against stone. He hissed, forcing himself to stand as the small drones bolted over to their re-grounded target. Blood dripped in a steady stream from Windblight as it dragged itself back into the air. The drones buzzed as they loaded up and Link batted one away with his shield as he ran for the air vent again.

He breathed. The fletching brushed by his face, feathers kissing his cheek, and the Blight dropped again. He didn’t bother with the rest of the body this time, just drove his sword down into Windblight’s eye, bright next to the broken arrow shaft, twisted it until bright blue liquid was mingling with purple blood. He refused to acknowledge the burn from the Blight’s malice hand through his clothes as it clawed at him, and with a final grunt Link shoved his sword right through to the other side of its damned head. There was no noise but the gurgle of blood for a moment, and then the wind was audible again as Windblight melted into the lichen.

Link stumbled back, back aching and side burning. The lichen shuddered, soft red distorted for a moment, before settling down into the same carpet it was before. Link turned back to the control unit, and a mangled blue lump is sprawled out in front of it. He expected it to struggle to its feet and make some drawling quip, but Revali didn’t move.

Link moved towards the control panel, paying little attention to the blistering heat down his side, and didn’t like what he found. Revali lay on his back and his body looked cracked to pieces, lingering malice clinging to feathers and burned exposed skin. It gurgled without a care as Link knelt down; a broken wing, snapped in at least three places, jutted out, too misshaped to be recognized at first, and a crooked leg. There was something off about the foot that Link didn’t know enough about anatomy to put a name to. Revali’s was breathing though, harsh, gurgling, and wonderful to hear, because even if each breath sounded like choking it meant Mipha survival hadn’t been a fluke.

Still, looking down at the twisted up body of a maybe-friend sent a shrill prick of panic down Link’s spine. It was one thing to clot a bloody hand or straighten a broken nose, but he didn’t know a thing about Rito anatomy and Revali’s arm was snapped in too many pieces, shoved in too many directions to be sure what went where. Link rested a hand on Revali’s back. He didn’t even twitch. Link shook him gently, scared to damage anything further, even called his name in a wobbly, near silent, painful voice that makes no difference other than setting alight a knot of pain in Link’s throat and chest.

Slowly Link rolled him over, wincing when he scrapped the shattered wing against the stone floor. He’d fix that, Link promised, as soon as he found which wound was holding too tightly to him. Link found it as soon as Revali was off his stomach—three perfectly circular burns across his chest that had to be from the Blight’s canon. The force of the blasts had been enough to cave in his ribs. Malice pulsed from the burns, happily sinking into the discolored flesh, and the image of vile red and black eating away at organs, breaking down a body into nothing hitched in Link’s lungs until he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t turn his head away, couldn’t imagine fixing something like that. He settled back on his heels and let out as deep a breath as he could. Panicking helped neither of them.

He reached a hand over the least severe burn—best to start small—and closed his eyes. He needed this. He let the words sink into him. He _needed_ this because he was confused over what Revali was, who he was, but he was still a someone, someone who could help get this Divine Beast out of the sky and help children sleep soundly in their hammocks again, who could help bring back the Princess, someone who shared his goals and didn’t deserve to rot Goddess knew how many feet up in the air. They both needed this because Link couldn’t stand to be alone in this chill anymore and couldn’t stand the thought of leaving Revali in it.

When Link opened his eyes the flesh was still dark, the quills exposed, vern charred, but the skin was clear and intact. Link let out a breath he hadn’t know he’d been holding. It was deeply worrying that Revali had given no response to what was surely a painful experience, but Link chose not to dwell on that. He moved to the concave in Revali’s chest, ribs forced down and skin reeking, sweet and meaty, and sunk back down into the words. He could feel the wound moving under his touch this time, bones snapping back into place and shifting under the skin—a disgusting feeling, but hopefully a good one. It made him shiver, a shot running down his spine and into his stomach.

Link leaned back onto his heels and squeezed his eyes shut for just a moment, just long enough for his insides to settle back down inside his skin. It was a groan that makes him open his eyes, a dry but sticky sound and Link on Revali’s twitching—moving!—body in an instant, helping shift him up off the stone floor and against Link’s good side. His hands are raised to say something, anything, when Revali let out a gargled gagging sound and doubled over, malice dripping slowly from the sides of his mouth first, then a stream of it, still searing hot as it dissolved into air, and when the red shit was finally gone he was shaking like some small hypothermic creature. Revali took in a ragged breath.

_‘Hey,’_ Link signed, and after a long, dull look Revali seemed to recognize the word. _‘You’re okay. Everything is okay.’_ Revali shifted and buried his face in the crook where Link’s shoulder ended and neck began, and regardless of how tightly wound as he was, Link let it be. If it meant time to rest the pulsing hole in his side or his aching back, he could be alright with it.

Link didn’t know how long they sat there; not too long, as Link was still counting his breaths when the soft lurch in Link gut demanded his attention. The wing was tilted; when Link looked towards the empty control panel his insides stopped. The Blight had been controlling the Divine Beast, and now it was gone. Vah Medoh wasn’t tilting. It was falling. _Fuck, Goddess above_ , Link’s brain manages to string together as he jerked to his feet, knocking Revali aside. _That’s just not fair_ —he grabbed hold of Revali and hauled him up as well. Revali swayed on his feet, putting most of his weight on Link’s arm, but he didn’t fall. That was probably a good sign.

It took an obnoxious amount of effort to sign with Revali hanging off of him, and even then the Rito didn’t seem to be internalizing a word he was signing.

_‘I need to get the controls back on—either tell me how or do it yourself.’_ He signed for a second time, hands much harsher, sharper, and when Revali didn’t answer he sighed and let Revali find his way back to the floor. Link knew he was acting like an ass, especially when the sheen of pain was spread so thick across Revali’s eyes, but he decided that given the giant stone Beast beginning to lose altitude over a town Link had promised to take care of, manners could be put aside for a while.

The control panel was different than Vah Ruta’s, the only Divine Beast Link had vaguely known how to operate a hundred years ago, and that did nothing to ease the bud of panic growing at the base of his spine. Okay. Okay, it was probably intuitive. He’d figure it out. The smooth, simple blue that flowed and ebbed across the divots of Ruta’s panel was replaced by an angular, sharp figured base that made Link very glad he had been flung into Ruta’s control panel instead of this one—he had a feeling this would have impaled him instead of just ( _just_ , ha!) cracking his skull. He ran a hand over the rigid plates atop the panel and they chirped under his finger, blue popping into life. Link brought his other hand up and stumbled back as a short bundle of feathers shoved him aside. Revali was trembling as he yanked his wing the other way across the panel, blue singing under his hand.

Revali cradled his left arm to his chest and Link hovered close, ready to catch him if the shaking in Revali’s legs overpowered his fragile balance. His wing moves with surprising reverence over the panel, the loving touch softening the harsh edges, and the happy blue followed his hand closely.

Revali’s legs did give after a surprisingly long while, and Link held him close, silently apologizing for the shattered wing squeezed between the two of them, but Revali barely seemed to notice; just let his head rest of Link’s shoulder as he finished helping his Beast in her descent. Link almost tripped as he helped move Revali back towards the edge; it was a bow, black and blue and elegant, and, taking care to keep Revali balanced, Link snatched the Great Eagle bow up and hooked up over his shoulder. Revali’s sharp moment of clarity seemed to be fading. He pressed more and more weight against Link as they debarked. Revali is lighter than Link imagined—perhaps his bones were as hollow like birds?—but the dead weight still pushed harshly into his back.

He dragged the two of them further down the Rito boarding platform to the topmost levels of Rito Village. Revali didn’t move when footsteps round the curve in front of them, didn’t look up when a bandaged but armed Teba followed by another dark feathered Rito run into view.

“Fuck.” Teba breathed.

“ _Fuck_.” The other Rito said over him.

“Harth—” The other Rito, Harth probably, was moving without Teba taking to ask. Link stepped back as Harth tried to unhook Revali from his side, and soon more Rito were rounding the corner, all color of feathers climbing up those stairs to see the resting stone claws of the Divine Beast. Link moved back from the crowd. He wasn’t going pass Revali off to some stranger with no medical expertise.

“Link, come on, you’re hurt; we should go,” Teba whispered in Link’s ear. Link hadn’t even noticed him move, and when Teba put a careful wing on his bad side’s shoulder Link’s burn splits awake. He shook Teba off and this time it was Saki holding softly to Revali’s exposed shoulder.

“I’ll get him somewhere safe.” She said, and Link didn’t hand him to her so much as she lifted Revali off of him. “You should get to the infirmary too—Alana can take you.”

_I'm fine_ ,’ Link is tempted to sign, and Link can tell Teba sensed it.

“There’s a hole in your side size of your hand.” He said, and with the growing size of the crowd—Link didn’t even realize that many Rito were still living in Rito Village—staying and chatting sounded extremely unpleasant. The dark green Rito beside Saki offered her wing, and with some hesitance, Link took it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! this could use more ironing out but i didn't want y'all to wait ten thousand years (again). I actually have a good excuse for taking so long this time-- in the most cartoon bully psa-esc fashion i got pushed down on the way to class and my laptop got smashed. I write with word and not google docs so all my work was stuck in the computer while they fixed it, which ended up taking weeks. But it's here now! I'm sorry it's so short, but I didn't want to bore y'all with unnecessary details. I hope you like it, and I hope you all are having a great day!

**Author's Note:**

> so while I've written a few fics before, I've never posted them anywhere and I'm pretty terrified. I've been sitting on this since thanksgiving so I figured I might as well bite the bullet and post it. hopefully it came out alright? 
> 
> also I have not idea how ao3 works so formatting this was very frustrating lol


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